The  Library 

of  the 

University  of  North  Carolina 


From  the  Library  of 
Berthold  Louis  Ullman 

A  Gift  of 

hMss  Gertrude  V^eil 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 
DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 
SOCIETIES 


PA6395 

.L86 

1886 


This  book  is  due  at  the  WALTER  R.  DAVIS  LIBRARY  on 
the  last  date  stamped  under  “Date  Due.’’  If  not  on  hold  it 
may  be  renewed  by  bringing  it  to  the  iibrary. 


RET 

DUE  ■ 

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DUE  ■ 

may  i 

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D 1 4’nn 

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HORACE. 


THE  ODES  AND  SAECDLAR  HYMN, 


WITH  SELECTIONS  FROM 


THE  E  P  0  D  E  S  , 


OF 


QUINTUS  HORATIUS  FLACCUS, 


RENDERED  INTO  ENGLISH  VERSE 


BY 

CHARLES  WILLIAM  DUNCAN. 


“  EGO,  APIS  MATINAE 
“  MORE  MODOQUE 

GRATA  CARPENTIS  THYMA  PER  LABOREM 


PLURIMUM,  *  * 


;  i 


*  #  * 

m 

*  *  *  OPEROSA,  PARVUS, 

“  CARMINA  FINGO.” — LIB.  IV.  CAR.  2. 


CHESTEE  : 

PHILLIPSON  AND  GOLDEK. 


1  8  8  6. 


rHILLlPSON  AND  GOLDDR,  PRINTERS,  CHESTER. 


DEDICATION. 


TO  THE  MOST  NOBLE 

THE  DUKE  OF  WESTMINSTER,  K.G. 


My  Lord  Dukr, 

As  Horace  himself  says,  I  cannot  offer  you  statues 
by  Scopas,  or  paintings  by  Parrhasius.  I  can  only  offer  you  verses, 
and  those  not  very  good  ones.  Such  as  they  are,  however,  they 
are  my  best.  I  too  can  tell  the  value  of  my  gift,  and  most 
heartily  do  I  give  it. 

I  hate  adulation,  which  never  has  a  true  ring  about  it. 
Let  me  then  only  say  that  I  dedicate  this  Book  to  your  Grace 
as  the  best  friend  of  the  community  in  which  my  lot  is  cast. 

I  am. 

My  Lord  Duke, 

Your  faithful  Servant, 

CHAS.  W.  DUNCAN. 


Arnold  House,  Chester, 
Jany.,  1886 


PREFACE 


Another  attempt  to  present  Horace  in  an  English  dress  !  Two 
questions  will  naturally  occur  to  those  who  take  up  my  book.  First, 
have  there  not  already  been  too  many  translations  ?  Secondly,  have 
former  translators  so  far  failed,  that  I  should  dare  to  hope  for  a  greater 
success  than  any  one  of  them  has  achieved  ? 

To  the  first  question  I  reply  that  it  is  impossible  to  have  too  many 
translations  of  Horace.  There  is  something  so  exquisite  about  the 
delicate  touches  of  his  genius  and  the  lightning  flashes  of  his  wit, 
that  even  the  rudest  and  roughest  hand,  if  guided  by  genuine  lo  e, 
cannot  help  contributing  some  little  to  a  fuller  appreciation  of  his 
beauties. 

The  second  question  is  a  more  difficult  one.  Assuredly  the  poets 
and  scholars  who  have  undertaken  this  work  before  me  have  each,  out 
of  the  rich  stores  of  his  own  mind,  done^  something  to  increase  our 
perception  of  the  wit,  the  geniality,  the  shrewd  pleasantry,  the  playful 
satire,  and  the  more  lofty  flights  of  an  almost  prophetic  imagination, 
which  the  bard  of  Tivoli  has  given,  in  profuse  abundance,  for  the 
instruction  and  delectation  of  every  age.  What  then  is  left  for  me  ? 

T  have  an  answer  even  to  this.  It  is  for  the  very  reason  that  those 
who  have  translated  Horace  before  me  were  poets  themselves,  that  I 
think  there  is  still  room  for  me.  The  idea  of  this  work  was  put  into  my 
head  by  a  dear  friend,  now  gone  to  his  rest,  (the  Rev.  Fredk.  Forde, 
late  Rector  of  St.  Peter’s,  Chester),  who  always  insisted  that  what  was 
still  wanting  was  a  translation  of  Horace,  in  writing  which  the 
translator  would  never  let  his  own  fancy  run  away  with  him,  nor  dream 
that  he  could  gild  refined  gold  out  of  his  own  crucible,  but  would 
rigidly  adhere  to  the  words  of  the  Master. 

This  is  what  I  have  tried  to  do.  To  those  who  read  this  book  it  is 
almost  needless  for  me  to  say  that  I  am  not  a  poet.  My  effort  has 
been  to  present  an  almost  literal  translation  of  the  words  of  Horace  in 
metrical  form.  In  doing  this  there  must  naturally  be  great  stiffness  and 


0 


V 


angularity,  as  it  were,  in  the  diction,  and  some  halting  in  the  metres. 
The  merit,  (if  merit  there  be),  of  this  translation  lies  only  in  the 
faithfulness  of  the  rendering.  Of  course  there  are  passages  which  are 
so  idiomatic  as  to  be  untranslateable  literally,  and  there  are  also 
passages  upon  the  interpretation  of  which  the  learned  do  not  agree. 
With  these  I  have  simply  done  my  best  to  present  the  poet’s  meaning. 

The  gentle  reader, — let  him  or  her  be  a  very  gentle  one, — will,  I 
trust,  take  up  my  book  in  a  kind  and  forbearing  spirit,  and  will  not 
expect  too  much.  Then  there  will  be  no  disappointments.  I  launch 
my  little  barcjue  upon  the  sea  of  public  opinion,  hoping  that  the  gales  of 
criticism  will  not  blow  very  savagely. 

A  few  words  with  regard  to  the  metres  I  have  selected  may  not  be 
out  of  place.  It  will  no  doubt  be  noticed  that  I  have  very  rarely 
attempted  to  produce  in  English  the  original  metres.  The  few  attempts 
I  made  did  not  please  me,  and  I  have  therefore  adopted  metres  which 
seemed  better  suited  to  our  own  language.  I  have,  however,  in  all 
cases  adhered  as  closely  as  I  could  to  the  style  and  method  adopted  by 
the  Latin  poet  himself. 

The  text  which  1  have  followed  is  that  of  Dr.  Milman,  although  1 
have  referred  a  good  deal  to  those  of  Orelli  and  others. 

Arnold  House,  Chester, 

January,  1886. 


THE  ODES  OF  HORACE. 


BO 


Book  I. 

Book  II. 

Book  III. 

Book  IV.  . 

The  Saecular  Hymn  . 
The  Epodes 
Notes  . 


Page. 

I 

55 

94 

153 

187 

192 

209 


Vlll 


N  A  M  E  S 


0  F  S  U  B  S  CIM  B  E  R  S  . 


* 


HIS  GEACE  THE  DUKE  OF  WESTMINSTEE,  K.G.  {Large 
paper.) 

THE  EIGHT  HON.  THE  LOED  HALSBUEY,  Lord  High  Chancellor 
of  Great  Britain.  {Large  paper.) 

THE  EIGHT  EEV.  THE  LOED  BISHOP  OF  CHESTEE,  The 
Palace,  Chester. 

THE  EIGHT  HON.  HENEY  CECIL  EAIKES,  M.P.,  Llwynegrin, 
Mold. 

THE  EIGHT  HON.  SIE  THEODOEE  MAETIN,  K.C.B.,  31,  Onslow 
Square,  London,  S.W. 

H.  J.  TOLLEMACHE,  Esq.,  M.P.,  Dorfold,  Nantwich. 

LIEUT. -COL.  MYLES  SANDYS,  M.P.,  Graythwaite  Hall,  Lancashire. 

{Large  paper.) 

F.  LOCKWOOD,  Esq.,  Q.C.,  M.P..  26,  Lennox  Gardens,  London,  S.W. 

THE  WOESHIPFUL  THE  MAYOE  OF  CHESTEE,  GEOEGE 
A.  DICKSON,  Esq. 

HIS  HONOUE  JUDGE  THOMAS  HUGHES,  Q.C.,  Uffington 
House,  Chester. 

HIS  HONOUE  JUDGE  HOEATIO  LLOYD,  3,  Sandown  Terrace, 
Chester. 

MAJOE-GEN.  STOKES,  Senior  United  Service  Club,  London. 

SIE  THOMAS  GIBBONS  FEOST,  Eedcliff,  Chester. 

THE  EEV.  EICHAED  OKES,  D.D.,  Provost  of  King’s  College, 
Cambridge. 

THE  EEV.  JOHN  GOTT,  D.D.,  The  Vicarage,  Leeds. 

ASHWOETH,  Mr.  S.  P.,  Highfield  House,  Headingley,  Leeds. 

BAKEE,  Mr.  J.  E.,  Queen’s  Park,  Chester. 

BAILLIE,  Mr.  E.  J.  (P.L.S.),  Woodbine,  Chester. 

BELL,  BEODEICK,  &  GEAY,  Messrs.,  Bow  Churchyard,  London, 
(2  copies). 

BODEN,  Mr.  W.  M.,  Saighton,  Chester. 

BEOWN,  Mr.  Alderman  Geo.,  (J.P.),  Clifton,  York. 

BEOWN,  Mr.  H.  T.,  (J.P.),  Eoodeye  House,  Chester.  {Large  paper). 

BULLIN,  Mr.  F.,  (J.P.),  White  Friars  House,  Chester.  {Large  paper. 

BULMEE,  Mr.  T.  P.,  Mount  Villas,  York. 

BUETON,  Mr.  J.  E.,  Minera  Hall,  Wrexham. 

BUSH,  Capt.,  (E.N.),  Parndon  Lodge,  Essex.  {Large  paper). 

BUSHELL,  Mr.  C.,  (J.P.),  Hinderton,  Neston.  {Large  paper). 

CALDECUTT,  Mr.  A.  E.,  30,  St.  Martin’s  Fields,  Chester. 

CAEEINGTON,  Mr.  A.,  12,  White  Friars,  Chester. 

CAYLEY,  Mr.  A.,  Fitzalan  House,  Arundel  Street,  Strand,  London. 


CHESTER  FREE  LIBRARY,  The. 

CHRISTIE,  The  Worshipful  Chancellor,  Clenwood,  Virginia  Water, 
Staines. 

CHRITCHLEY,  The  Rev.  J.  M.,  (LL.D.),  Long  Newton,  Durham.  {Large, 
paper.) 

CHURTON,  Mr.  W.  H.,  Bough  ton,  Chester, 

COPE,  Mr.  H.  A.,  Holywell. 

COX,  Mr.  J.  O.,  15,  Sion  Hill,  Clifton,  Bristol. 

CULLIMORE,  Mr.  John,  The  Friars,  Chester. 

CUNNAH,  Mr.  J.  J.,  Dee  House,  Sealand,  Chester.  {Large  paper). 
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DUTTON,  Mr.  C.,  GaJling  Lodge,  Queen’s  Park,  Chester 
DUTTON,  Mr.  J.  Rowe,  Bridge  Street,  Chester. 

EDWARDS,  Mr.  J.  E.,  City  Treasurer,  Chester. 

ELLIS,  Mr.  J.,  16,  Newgate  Street,  Chester. 

EVANS,  Mr.  T.  H.,  The  Eastgate,  Chester. 

EVANS-LLOYD,  Colonel,  J.P.,  Stanley  Place,  Chester. 

EWEN,  Mr.  J.  E.,  Eccleston,  Chester. 

PARISH,  Mr.  W.  (J.P.),  Helsby,  Cheshire. 

FARMER,  Mr.  R.,  Brierley,  Brook  Lane,  Chester. 

FISH,  Mr.  A.  H.,  (B.A  ,  B.Sc.),  Arnold  House,  Chester. 

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GAMON,  Mr.  J.,  Curzon  Park,  Chester. 

GILBERT,  Mr.  L.,  (J.P.),  Liverpool  Road,  Chester. 

GOSSIP,  Mrs.,  15,  Hough  Creen,  Chester. 

GRIFFITHS,  Mr.  T.  W.,  5,  Hough  Green,  Chester. 

GUNTON,  Mr.  F.,  Liverpool  Road,  Chester. 

HALL,  Mr.  J.  H.  A.,  The  Old  Bank,  Chester. 

HAMILTON,  Mr.  A.,  16,  White  Friars,  Chester. 

HASSALL,  Mr.  H.,  Bridge  Street,  Chester. 

HIGNETT,  The  Rev.  H.  A.  (M.A.b  Ringway  Vicarage,  Altrincham. 
HOBDAY,  Mr.  Jas.,  14,  1  iverpool  Road,  Chester. 

HORABIN,  Mr.  T.,  16,  Newgate  Street,  Chester.  {Large  paper.) 

HOUSTOUN,  Mr.  W.  C.,  8,  Grosvenor  Mansions,  London,  S.W., 
{Large  paper.) 

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{Tiro  copies). 

HOWE,  Mrs.,  Montpelier  Terrace,  Cliff  road,  Leeds. 

HUGHES,  Mr.  T.  (F.S.A.),  The  Groves,  Chester.  [Large  paper) 
HUMBERSTON,  Col.  P.  S.  (J.P.),  Glan-y-weim ,  Denbigh.  {Large  paper). 


JEPSON,  Mr,  E.  G.,  Springfield  Mount,  Leeds. 

JOHNSON,  Mr.  M.  (L.D.S.,  E.E.M.S.j,  9,  York  Villas,  Lome  Street, 
Chester.  {Large  pa.per,) 

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KEMP,  Mr.  David,  2,  Wilton  Crescent,  Glasgow. 

KEMP,  Mr.  J,  L., -The  Northgate,  Chester. 

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KINLOCH,  Miss,  3,  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square,  London. 
KYNNERSLEY,  Mr.  E.  M.  Sneyd,  24,  Castle  Street,  Chester. 

LEWIS,  Mr.  B.,  Beechley,  Wrexham. 

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MANNING,  Mr.  J.  B.,  The  Governor’s  House,  Wakefield. 

MARCH,  Miss,  Beech  Grove  House,  Leeds. 

MARSHALL,  Mr.  F.,  3,  Harcourt  Buildings,  Temple,  London. 
MARSHALL,  Mr.  W.  B.,  New  Brighton,  Cheshire.  (2  copies.) 
MASSEY,  Mr.  F.  W.,  White  Friars,  Chester. 

MILLER,  Mr.  J.  B.,  Folliott  House,  Northgate  Street,  Chester. 
(2  copies.'* 

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MOSS,  Mr.  Henry,  12,  Abbey  Square,  Chester. 

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PARKES,  Mr.  A.,  19,  Curzon  Park,  Chester. 

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PHILLIPSON,  Mr.  J.,  12,  Liverpool  Road,  Chester. 

POTTS,  Mr.  A.,  The  College,  Chester. 

POTTS,  Mr.  F.,  Gresford,  Wrexham. 

POTTS,  Mr.  Reginald,  Northgate  Street,  Chester. 

PRESTON,  The  Rev.  G.,  The  King’s  School,  Chester. 

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RAMSDEN,  Mr.  J.,  “Courant”  Office,  Chester. 

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XI 


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ROBEETS,  Mr.  T.,  9,  Upper  Northgate  Street,  Chester. 

ROBERTS,  Mr.  T.  Q.,  (J.P.),  86,  Watergate  Flags,  Chester. 
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ROSS,  Miss  K.  J.,  18,  Park  Terrace,  Glasgow.  (Large  paper.) 
ROYLE,  Mr.  T.  V.,  Curzon  Park,  Chester. 

SAVAGE,  Major  H.,  Bodafon,  B mgor. 

SHEPHEARD,  Mr.  T.,  (F.R.M.S.),  Kingsley  Lodge,  Liverpool  Road, 
Chester. 

SHONE,  Mr.  W.  (F.G.S.),  Upton  Park,  Chester. 

SMITH,  Mr.  E.,  1,  Alma  Terrace,  Wavertree,  Liverpool. 

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SMITH,  Mr.  Samuel,  Nicholas  Street,  Chester. 

SMITH,  Mr.  T.,  Blacon  Point,  Chester. 

SPARK,  Mr.  Fred  E.,  29,  Hyde  Terrace,  Leeds. 

SPENCER,  Mr.  S.,  Barrel  Well,  Chester. 

STEWART,  The  Rev.  C.  Hylton,  The  Precentory,  Chester. 

SUMMERS,  Mrs.,  Fernly,  Iver  Heath,  Uxbridge. 

TAIT,  Mr.  F.  H.,  Bridge  Street  Row,  Chester. 

TARVER,  The  Rev.  Canon,  The  Residence,  Chester. 

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WHALEY,  Mr.  S.,  The  Watergate,  Chester. 

WHEELDON,  Mr.  J.,  241,  Stockport  Road,  Manchester. 

WHITE,  The  Rev.  F.  le  Grix,  Leaming-on-Ulleswater,  Penrith. 
WHYTEHEAD,  Mr.  T.  B.,  South  Parade,  York. 

WILSON  Mr.  J.  (LL.D.),  Town  Clerk,  Congleton. 

WOOD,  Mr.  R.  S.,  55,  Bouverie  Street,  Chester. 

WOOD,  Mr.  T.,  Bridge  Street,  Chester. 

WAY,  Mr.  N.  A.  Ernest,  76,  Watergate  Street,  Chester. 

YERBURGH,  Mr.  R.  A.,  4,  Harcourt  Buildings,  Temple,  London. 


V  ^  ^  ^ 


THE  C)  H  E  S 

OF 

QUINTUS  HORATIUS  ULACCUS. 


BOOK  I  . 


ODE  L 

To  Maecenas. 


'T  TjT  AECENAS,  sprung  from  royal  line, 


Oh  friend  and  sweet  protector  mine  ! 
Some  love  th’  Olympic  dust  to  raise, 

With  glowing  wheels  the  goal  to  graze  ; 

Th’  ennobling  palm  such  earthly  lords 
Lifts  to  the  level  of  the  Gods. 

Some  of  the  threefold  honours  proud, 

Gifts  of  the  fickle  Roman  crowd. 

In  their  own  barns  some  love  to  store 
Grain  swept  from  Libyan  threshing-floor. 
Another  tills  paternal  field. 

Rejoicing  in  the  fruitRil  yield  ; 

Not  wealth  of  Attains  could  move 
Such  man  to  leave  the  quiet  grove  ; 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


To  cleave  the  dread  Myrtoan  sea 
In  Cyprian  bark,  too  tim’rous  he. 

The  merchant  dreads  the  wind  south-west 
Lashing  Icaria’s  foaming  crest, 

Awhile  commends  his  tranquil  home. 
Unwilling  from  his  fields  to  roam  ; 

Yet  soon  refits  his  shattered  keel. 

Untaught  the  pinch  of  want  to  feel. 

Some  it  delights  to  while  away 
With  Massic  old  the  live-long  day. 

Now  stretched  beneath  the  cherry  green, 
And  now  by  sacred  fountain  seen. 

Trumpet  and  clarion’s  mingled  voice. 

Some  woman-hated  war  rejoice. 

The  hunter,  ranging  thro’  the  plains. 

Under  the  frosty  sky  remains. 

Unmindful  of  his  tender  spouse 
If  a  fleet  stag  his  dogs  arouse, 

Or  a  huge  Marsian  boar  pursue. 

Crashing  the  fine-wrought  meshes  through. 
The  ivy,  prize  the  learned  love, 

Makes  me  the  peer  of  Gods  above  ; 

The  forest  cool,  and  lightsome  band 
Of  Nymphs  and  Satyrs  hand  in  hand. 

My  well-won  praises  chaunting  loud, 
Distinguish  me  from  vulgar  crowd. 

If  sweet  Euterpe’s  lute  be  given, 
Polhymnia’s  lyre  vouchsafed  by  heaven  ; 

If  ’mid  the  lyric  bards  I  tread 
To  stars  shall  tower  my  lofty  head. 


2 


BOOK  1. 


ODE  II. 

To  Augustus  Caesar 


i^NOUGH  of  dreadful  hail  and  snow 
Hath  Jove  sent  on  the  earth  below, 
His  bolts  our  sacred  fanes  o’erthrow, 

Hurled  from  his  red  right  hand. 


The  nation  dreads  the  sad  return 
Of  Pyrrha’s  age,  and  portents  stern. 
Lest  Proteus  finny  shoals  should  turn 
Upon  the  hilly  land. 

’Mid  lofty  elms  then  fishes  glide. 

The  seats  where  late  did  doves  abide  ; 
Whilst  struggle  in  the  whelming  tide 
The  frighted  fallow-deer. 

We’ve  seen  how  Tiber’s  yellow  wave, 
Compell’d  th’  Etruscan  shore  to  leave. 
Flowed  fiercely  over  ro}'al  grave 

And  Vesta’s  temple  near. 


3 


ODES  OK  HORACE. 


Avenger  of  sad  Ilia’s  woes, 

The  loving  river  overflows, 

And  o’er  his  lofty  left  bank  shows, 

Careless  of  Jove’s  command. 

Thinned  by  their  parents’  vicious  life. 

Our  youth  shall  hear  of  keen-edged  knife 
Whetted  for  fratricidal  strife, 

Which  Persians  fierce  should  slay. 

On  which  God  shall  the  nation  call 
T’  avert  the  ruined  empire’s  fall  ? 

What  prayer  of  Vestals  shall  recall 

The  Goddess  turned  away  ? 

On  whom  shall  Jove  the  task  impose 
To  chase  our  sin-inflicted  woes? 

His  glorious  form  if  Phoebus  shows 
Veiled  in  a  dusky  cloud. 

Or,  if  thou  wilt,  sweet  Venus  smile. 

Whom  mirth  and  love  by  turns  beguile ; 

Or  thou,  stern  Founder,  deign  awhile 
To  hear  our  plainings  loud. 

Oh  thou  to  whom  ’tis  sport  to  fight, 

Thou  whom  fierce  war  and  helmets  bright 
And  Marsian  infantry  delight. 

Fierce  ’gainst  a  bloody  foe. 


4 


BOOK  I. 


Or  thou,  wing’d  son  of  Maia  fair, 

If  thou  in  mortal  guise  appear, 

May  Caesar’s  young  avenger  share 
Thy  glorious  form  below. 

Late  may’st  thou  to  the  Gods  arise. 
Long  spared  to  bless  our  Roman  eyes, 
Nor  breezes  waft  thee  to  the  skies 
Offended  by  our  sin  ! 

Great  Caesar  !  thou  our  noble  guide. 
Still  greater  triumphs  shalt  provide. 
Nor  let  the  Medes  unpunished  ride. 

Our  Father  and  our  King  ! 


5 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  III. 


To  I  K  G  I  L 


ship  I  in  which  lov^’d  Virgil  sails, 

May  potent  Cypria  thee  direct. 

May  he  who  rules  the  boist’rous  gales 
And  Helen’s  twins,  bright  stars,  protect  I 

Save  lapyx  all  else  confined. 

Oh,  bear  him  safely  I  beseech  ; 

Preser\’e  one  half  my  anxious  mind 
That  he  the  Attic  shore  may  reach  1 

With  oak  and  triple  brass  were  armed 
His  breast  who  launched  frail  vessel  first 
On  cruel  deep,  nor  was  alarmed 

By  furious  south-west’s  rage  accurst 


With  the  northern  blasts  contending  ; 

Nor  feared  the  rainy  Pleiades, 

Nor  mad  south,  all  else  transcending 
To  lash  or  lull  the  Hadrian  seas. 


^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^ 


6 


BOOK  T. 


What  path  of  death  would  he  not  brave 
Who  gazed  on  monsters  of  the  deep 

Dry-eyed,  nor  feared  the  swelling  wave, 

Nor  fell  Ceraunia’s  hated  steep  ? 

In  vain  wise  God  the  land  divides 
By  tracts  of  intervening  sea, 

If  daring  ship  the  billows  rides 
And  crosses  trackless  waters  free. 

Mankind  all  dangers  dares  behold. 

Thro’  paths  forbidden  hastes  to  stray. 

By  wicked  fraud  Prometheus  bold 

Brought  fire  from  heav’n  with  men  to  stay. 

Fire  stol’n  from  its  celestial  home 

Brought  wasting  pain  and  new  disease  ; 

Relentless  Death,  once  slow  to  come. 

Then  hurried  on  with  rapid  pace. 

Thro’  empty  aether  Daedalus, 

On  wings  forbidden  to  mortals  flew. 

The  labours  of  great  Hercules 

The  gates  of  Acheron  burst  through. 

To  mortals  nothing  is  too  high. 

Great  Heav’n  itself  our  folly  climbs  ; 

From  angry  Jove  the  thunders  fly. 

The  chastisement  of  constant  crimes. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  IV. 

To  L  .  S  E  S  T  I  u  s  . 


’EEN  winter  melts  before  the  grateful  change  of  spring 
And  western  winds.  Dry  keels  are  drawn  to  shore  ; 
Nor  folds  to  flocks,  nor  fire  to  hinds,  now  pleasure  bring, 
Nor  fields  with  glistening  frost  are  whitened  o’er. 


The  sprightly  dance  now  Venus  leads  by  soft  moonlight. 
The  Nymphs  and  comely  Graces  hand  in  hand, 

Now  shake  the  ground  with  tripping  feet.  The  forges  bright 
Now  Vulcan  lights  for  the  Cyclopean  band. 


With  myrtle  green  ’tis  fit  to  wreathe  the  glossy  head. 

Or  with  the  flowers  sprung  from  the  frost-freed  land  ; 
To  Faunus  now  ’tis  fit  to  give  in  woodland  shade 
A  skipping  lamb,  or  kid  if  he  demand. 


Pale  Death  in  paupers’  huts  with  foot  impartial  treads 
And  palaces  of  kings.  Oh  !  Sestius  blest. 

The  little  span  of  life  long  hope  t’  indulge  forbids,  . 
By  night  and  ghosts  unreal  you’re  now  oppressed 

And  Pluto’s  far  abode  ;  where  once  when  you  arrive 
No  more  for  festal  kingdoms  dice  you’ll  throw. 

Nor  yet  to  tender  Lycidas  your  praise  shall  give, 

For  whom  now  youths,  but  soon  shall  virgins,  glow. 


8 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  V. 

To  Pyrrha. 


WITH  scents  bedewed,  what  silly  boy, 

Pyrrha,  now  seeks  your  love  t’  enjoy, 
’Neath  pleasant  grot  with  roses  twined, 

P^or  whom  your  yellow  hair  you  bind 

So  simply  neat  ?  He  soon  will  curse 
Your  broken  faith  and  Gods  averse  ; 

Artless,  he’ll  soon  astounded  be 
At  darksome  winds  and  raging  sea  ; 

Who,  trustful  now,  enjoys  your  charms. 

And  hopes  that  only  in  his  arms 
You  free  and  loving  he  shall  find. 
Unconscious  of  the  faithless  wind. 

Hapless  are  they  for  whom  you  shine 
So  bright,  untried  !  The  sacred  shrine 
By  tablet  vowed,  suspended  shows 
The  sea-god’s  gift, — my  dripping  clothes  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  VI. 

To  Agrippa. 


OH,  conqu’ring  hero,  under  thy  command. 
Whatever  exploit,  or  by  sea  or  land. 
Fierce  warrior  achieves,  with  winged  tongue 
In  Lydian  verse  shall  be  by  Varius  sung. 


Humble,  Agrippa,  we  dare  not  engage 
Such  mighty  deeds  to  sing,  nor  the  dread  rage 
Of  stern  Pelides,  nor  the  seaward  course 
Of  deep  Ulysses,  nor  the  cruel  house 

Of  Pelops.  Shame  and  the  all-potent  Muse 
Who  tunes  the  peaceful  lyre,  forbid  to  use 
In  praise  of  mighty  Caesar  and  of  thee 
The  feeble  strain  of  mediocrity. 

Who  mail-clad  Mars  shall  sing  with  praises  just  ? 
Or  Meriones  black  with  Trojan  dust  ? 

Or,  with  the  help  of  Pallas’  shelt’ring  love, 
Tydides  equal  to  the  Gods  above  ? 

In  ever-lightsome  vein  of  feasts  sing  we. 

Whether  with  love  we  burn,  or  fancy  free  ; 

We  sing  of  maiden  who  the  youths  assails. 

Fierce  in  appearance, — but  with  close-pared  nails. 


lO 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  VII. 

To  Munatius  Plancus. 


IET  others  sing  of  sunny  Rhodes, 

/  Of  Ephesus,  or  Mytilen’, 

Of  Corinth’s  doubly  sea-girt  walls. 

Of  Delphi,  Thebes,  or  Tempo’s  scene  ! 

Let  others  raise  eternal  praise 

To  her  who  bears  chaste  Pallas’  name. 
With  olive-branches  bind  their  brows 
In  honour  of  fair  Juno’s  fame  ! 

Of  Argos  famed  for  coursers  fleet. 

Of  proud  Mycenae  rich  with  gold  ; 

I  sing  not  of  Larissa’s  plain, 

Nor  hardy  Sparta’s  warriors  bold  ! 

Give  me  the  rushing  Anio’s  roar. 

The  groves  of  gentle  Tivoli, 

The  apple-orchards  by  the  stream. 

Where  oft  the  south  wind  clears  the  sky. 

Oh,  Plancus  !  wisely  drown  thy  cares 
In  soothing  draughts  of  mellow  wine. 
Amid  the  shades  of  Tivoli, 

Or  where  the  glittering  standards  shine  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


j 


When  Teucer  fled  from  Salamis,  \ 

By  cruel  parent  hunted  down, 

i  He  cheered  his  sad  comipanions  thus,  > 

I  ^  is  brows  adorned  with  poplar  crown  : —  I 

s  i 

S 

“  Wherever  better  fortune  leads,  < 

“  There,  comrades,  let  us  bravely  go,  \ 

“  With  Teucer  as  your  guide  and  guard,  ! 

I  “  Let  not  despair  your  bosoms  know  !  ^ 

>  ) 

j  “  Another  Salamis  shall  rise,  \ 

I  “  Thus  Phoebus  true  hath  promised  me  ;  I 

I  “  Now  drive  away  your  cares  with  wine,  | 

“  To-morrow  cross  the  mighty  sea  !  ”  J 


]  2 


1500  K  I. 

ODE  VIII. 
To  Lydia. 


^^AY,  Lydia,  by  each  God  I  pray, 

Why  draws  thy  love  young  Sybaris  from  manly  sports 
away  ? 

Why  dreads  he  now  the  sun-scorched  field  ? 

And  why  no  longer  scorns  he  now  to  dust  and  heat  to 
yield  ? 

No  more  among  his  peers  he  rides. 

No  more  the  mettled  Gallic  steed  with  bitted  rein  he  guides. 

To  plunge  in  Tiber’s  yellow  flood. 

Or  wrestlers’  oil  to  touch,  he  fears  more  than  the  viper’s 
blood  ! 

And  now  his  brawny  arms  no  more 
The  livid  bruises  bear  received  in  hardy  sports  of  war  ; 

The  discus  he  no  longer  knows. 

Nor  now  the  heavy  javelin  to  furthest  limit  throws  ! 

Why  now,  like  sea-born  Thetis’  boy. 

When  fate  foretold  sad  death  before  the  lofty  walls  of  Troy, 

Lorbidding  chase  of  Lycian  bands. 

Does  thy  love  drop  his  weapons  from  untrain’d  and 
nerveless  hands  ? 


'  ✓  vx  ^ 


13 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  IX. 

To  T  H  A  L  I  A  R  C  FI  U  S . 


SEE  white  Soracte’s  summit  rise, 

Whereon  the  snow,  deep  drifted,  lies  ; 
Low  droop  the  boughs  with  weight  of  snow. 
The  frost  hath  stayed  the  river’s -flow. 

Drive  out  the  cold.  The  logs  pile  high. 

Oh,  Thaliarchus,  gen’rously. 

Bring  out  that  wine  of  four  years’  old 
Which  the  rough  Sabine  jar  doth  hold. 

To  Providence  leave  all  the  rest. 

Whose  power,  by  warring  winds  confessed. 
Stills  the  deep  ocean’s  angry  tide. 

Whilst  storm-tossed  trees  in  calm  subside. 

To-morrow’s  fate  seek  not  to  know. 

Regard  as  gain  what  chance  bestow  ; 

Shun  not  the  mazy  dance,  my  boy, 

Nor  sweetly  with  your  love  to  toy. 


/ 


BOOK  I. 


Whilst  youth  is  far  from  grumbling  age, 
Now  is  the  time  in  sport  t’  engage  ; 

In  exercise  of  mimic  fight, 

Or  whispered  love  in  shelt’ring  night. 

Now,  captured  in  sly  corner’s  shade. 
Hear  the  sweet  laugh  of  hiding  maid. 
As,  finger  pointing  at  her  charms. 

You  snatch  the  forfeit  from  her  arms. 


15 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  X. 

To  Mercury. 


RCH  Mercury,  of  Atlas  grandson  bright, 


Who  by  thy  voice  the  manners  wild  didst  mould 
Of  ancient  mortals,  and  didst  introduce 
The  graceful  fashion  of  the  wrestler  bold  ; 


Of  thee  I  sing,  herald  of  mighty  Jove 

And  of  the  Gods  ;  parent  of  stringed  shell  ; 
And  whatsoe’er  thou  wilt  in  merry  theft 
To  take  away,  adroit  to  hide  as  well. 

When  Phoebus  threatened  thee  with  angry  voice 
Whilst  yet  a  little  child,  in  bye-gone  day. 

Lest  thou  restored  the  oxen  stol’n  by  craft, 

He  laughed  to  find  his  quiver  ta’en  away. 


And  so  rich  Priam,  having  Ilium  left 

Under  thy  guidance,  could  escape  with  joy 
The  haughty  sons  of  Atreus,  and  the  fires 
Thessalian,  and  the  hostile  camp  to  Troy. 

To  blissful  homes  thou  pious  souls  dost  lead. 

And  thou  the  ghostly  crowd  dost  quickly  move 
With  golden  rod  ;  by  deities  below 

Belov’d,  and  by  th’  immortal  Gods  above. 


BOOK  T. 


ODE  XL 
To  Leuconoe. 


SEEK  not,  Leuconoe,  ’tis  wrong  to  know. 

What  end  the  Gods  on  me  or  thee  bestow  ; 
Consult  not  thou  the  Babylonian  seer; 

Far  better  ’tis  thy  destined  lot  to  bear. 

Nor  ask  if  Jove  has  many  winters  given, 

Or  this  the  last  vouchsafed  by  gracious  heaven, 

’Gainst  stubborn  rocks  which  chafes  the  Tyrrhene  main. 
Be  wise,  and  haste  for  use  thy  wines  to  strain. 

The  longest  life  hoped  for  by  mortal  man. 

So  brief  in  space,  can  but  be  deemed  a  span. 

E’en  as  we  speak  unwelcome  age  flies  fast  ; 

Enjoy  the  day,  nor  to  the  future  trust. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XII. 

To  Augustus. 


|r|H,  Clio  !  whom  of  heroes  or  of  men 

^\3  Dost  thou  design  upon  thy  lyre  to  praise, 

Or  high-pitehed  pipe  ?  Whom  of  the  Gods  ? 

With  whose  great  name  shall  sportive  echo  ring, 
Either  in  shady  bounds  of  Helicon, 

On  Pindus,  or  on  frozen  Haemus’  height  ? 

Whence  moving  woods  in  crowding  ranks  pursued 
The  tuneful  Orpheus,  whose  maternal  art 
Had  power  the  rapid  flow  of  streams  to  stay 
And  the  swift  winds.  Persuasive  he  to  lead 
The  listening  oaks  with  his  melodious  strings. 

What  shall  I  sing  before  th’  accustomed  praise 
Of  the  great  Sire,  who  governs  the  affairs 
Of  Gods  and  men  ?  Who  rules  both  sea  and  land 
And  all  the  changing  seasons  of  the  world  ! 

Who  nothing  greater  than  himself  begets. 

Nor  aught  his  equal  nor  his  second  springs. 
Nearest  to  his  yet  Pallas  hath  acquired 
Honours  of  next  degree.  Nor,  Bacchus  free. 
Daring  in  battle,  will  I  cease  to  raise 
My  voice  in  praise  of  thee.  Nor  unto  thee. 

Oh  Virgin,  hostile  to  the  cruel  beasts  ; 

Nor  Phoebus,  dreaded  for  unerrinQ;  dart. 


BOOK  I. 


And  of  Alcides  also  will  I  sing, 

And  Leda’s  boys,  one  famed  for  conqu’ring  skill 
As  horseman  bold,  the  other  in  the  fight. 

Whose  glitt’ring  star  when  once  by  sailors  seen. 
The  tossing  waves  back  from  the  rocks  recoil. 

The  winds  fall  calm,  and  far  the  vapours  flee. 

And  threatening  billows,  at  their  sovereign  will 
Sink  down  recumbent  on  the  heaving  deep. 

I  hesitate  to  these  in  order  next 
Whether  first  Romulus,  or  the  quiet  reign 
Of  Numa,  or  Tarquinius’  fasces  proud. 

Or  Cato’s  noble  death  to  celebrate. 

In  lofty  verse  I,  grateful,  will  record 
Regulus,  the  Scauri,  and  Fabricius, 

And  Paullus,  pouring  out  his  mighty  soul 
To  death,  when  Punic  victory  was  won. 

Stern  poverty  and  unpretending  home 

In  farm  paternal,  could  alone  produce 

Such  hero  fit  for  war  ;  and  Curius  brave 

With  locks  uncombed  ;  and  great  Camillus’  name. 

Marcellus’  fame  increases  like  a  tree 

Increasing  in  the  silent  lapse  of  time. 

Amid  all  others  the  bright  Julian  star 
Shines  like  the  moon  among  the  lesser  lights. 

Oh,  Sire  and  Guardian  of  the  human  race. 

From  Saturn  sprung,  to  thee  the  Fates  have  given 
The  care  of  mighty  Caesar  !  Thou  shalt  reign. 
And  Caesar  second  to  thee  only  be. 

Whether  defeated  Parthians  he  shall  drive 
In  triumph  true,  if  Latium  they  molest, 


19 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Or  distant  Seres  or  Indians  subdue 
In  the  far  regions  of  the  Eastern  land  ; 

He,  next  to  thee,  shall  rule  the  spreading  world. 
Impartial  chief!  Olympus  thou  shalt  shake 
With  thy  tremendous  car  !  Thou  too  shalt  hurl 
Thy  lightnings  hostile  to  polluted  groves  1 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XIII. 
To  Lydia. 


'WITHEN  you  pink  neck  of  Telephus 
And  waxen  arms  caress, 

Lydia,  my  heart  with  anger  swells. 

Not  easy  to  repress. 

My  mind  and  colour  both  unfixed, 

^My  cheek  the  tear  bedews. 

Thus  proving  how  the  lasting  fire 
My  inmost  soul  subdues. 

I  rage  if  furious  strife  o’er  wine 

Hath  stained  your  shoulders  white, 

Or  if  mad  youth  his  mark  impress 
Upon  your  lips  with  bite. 

Hear  me,  nor  hope  he’ll  constant  prove 
Who  your  sweet  kisses  harms. 

Which  Venus  has  engifted  with 
Ouintessence  of  her  charms. 

Thrice  blest  and  more  are  they  who  are 
By  union  firm  held  fast  ; 

Whose  love,  untouched  by  quarrels  sad, 
To-day  supreme  shall  last. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIV. 

To  THE  Republic. 


|H,  Ship  !  what  new  waves  bear  thee  back 
To  sea  ?  What  dost  thou  do  ? 

Hold  firm  to  port.  Behold  what  lack 
Of  oars  thy  side  doth  show  ! 


Thy  splintered  mast  and  sail-yards  groan 
Before  swift  southern  blast ! 

The  raging  sea,  thy  cordage  gone, 

Now  thou  canst  hardly  breast  ! 

Thy  sails  are  rent,  thy  Gods  are  lost. 

Nor  hear  thy  wailings  loud, 

Altho’  the  Pontic  pine  thou  boast. 

The  forest’s  daughter  proud. 

Useless  mere  race  and  noble  name. 
Nought  timid  sailors  care 

For  painted  poops.  Lest  thou  become 
The  sport  of  winds  beware  ! 

Oh,  thou  !  my  trouble  late,  but  now 
Mine  anxious  care  and  pride. 

The  shining  Cyclades  may’st  thou 
And  tossing  seas  avoid  ! 


1300 K  1. 


ODE  XV. 

Nereus’  Prophecy  of  the  P'all  of  Troy. 


WHEN  the  perfidious  shepherd  o’er  the  seas 
In  Trojan  ships  his  hostess  Helen  drew, 
Nereus  in  hateful  calm  the  rapid  breeze 

Suppressed,  that  he  might  sing  the  fatal  woe  : — 

“  An  evil  bride  to  your  paternal  home 

“  You  now  conduct  ;  for  Greece,  confederate 
‘  To  break  your  vows,  with  mighty  force  shall  come, 
“  And  overthrow  old  Priam’s  ancient  state. 

“  Alas  !  to  horses  and  to  men  what  sweat 

“  Is  now  at  hand  !  What  fun’rals  do  you  bear 
“  To  the  Dardanian  race  !  With  awful  threat 
“  Her  helm  and  shield  doth  Pallas  now  prepare, 

“  Her  chariot  and  her  rage  !  Venus,  your  aid, 

“  You  vainly  strut  and  comb  your  bushy  hair, 

“  And  songs  recite  dear  to  each  tender  maid 
‘  To  harp  unwarlike,  whilst  you  shun  the  spear 

“  In  chamber  feared,  the  pointed  Cretan  reed, 

“  Ajax’  swift  chase  and  battle’s  horrid  din. 

“  Alas  !  in  filthy  dust  shall  be  besmeared 

“  At  last  those  dainty  locks  so  steeped  in  sin  ! 


r 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

“  What  mighty  heroes  shall  you  not  behold  ?  j 

“  Laertes’  son,  the  ruin  of  your  race,  \ 

“  Nestor  of  Pylos,  and  young  Teuccr  bold  ! 

“  Of  Salamis,  and  warlike  Sthenelus,  '! 

“No  sluggish  driver  the  swift  steeds  to  guide  ;  i 

“  And  Meriones  also  shall  you  know  ; 

“  And  fierce  Tydides,  in  heroic  pride  \ 

“  Beyond  his  sire,  shall  seek  your  overthrow.  ! 

“  Whom  you,  panting  like  timid  stag,  shall  flee  \ 

“  Heedless  of  pasture,  on  the  further  side  i 

“  Of  the  deep  vale  when  he  a  wolf  doth  see  ; —  i 

“  Not  like  to  this  your  promise  to  your  bride  !  i 

“  Incens’d  Achilles’  fleet  awhile  shall  stay  s 

“  The  doom  of  Ilium  and  of  Phrygian  wives  ;  > 

“  Not  many  winters  yet  shall  pass  away  ? 

“  Ere  Grecian  fire  shall  burn  the  Trojan  hives.”  i 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XVL 

A  Recantation. 


0,H,  daughter  fairer  than  thy  mother  fair, 

My  cruel  verses,  in  what  mode  soe’er 
Thou  wilt,  destroy  :  or  in  the  fire. 

Or  Hadrian  wave,  if  thou  desire. 

Not  Rhea,  nor  Pythius,  dweller  in  the  shrine. 

So  wildly  agitates  the  priestly  mind  ; 

Nor  Bacchus  thus,  nor  Maenads  rash 
Redouble  blows  with  brazen  clash, 

As  dreadful  wrath  ;  which  neither  raging  flame. 
Nor  ship-destroying  sea,  hath  pow’r  to  tame. 
Nor  Noric  sword,  nor  mighty  Jove, 

With  crash  descending  from  above. 

When  first  Prometheus  fashioned  us  from  clay. 
Some  grain  of  everything,  traditions  say, 
Compell’d  to  add,  his  cruel  art 
Put  lion’s  rage  in  human  heart. 


ODES  OF  HORACE, 


Wrath  hurled  Thyestes  to  a  dreadful  doom  ; 

To  lofty  cities  hath  destruction  come 

From  that  sad  cause,  when  vaunting  foe 
Drove  o’er  their  walls  the  hostile  plough, 

And  their  foundations  levelled  with  the  ground. 

Restrain  thy  wrath.  Alas  !  that  once  I  found 
In  thoughtless  youth  my  ardent  mind 
By  rage  possess’d,  in  which  I  penn’d 

Those  bitter  lines.  But  now  to  change  I  long 

Harsh  thoughts  for  kindly  ones,  and  insults  strong 
Recanted,  may’st  thou  friendly  prove 
And  give  me  back  thy  tender  love. 


BOOK  i. 


ODE  XVII. 
r  O  T  Y  N  D  A  R  I  S  . 


I'f^OR  fair  Lucretilis  doth  Faunus  swift 
A  Lycoeus  oft  desert, 

Who  doth  hot  summer  and  the  rainy  winds 
From  my  she-goats  avert. 

Thro’  woods  secure  the  he-goats’  wand’ring  wives 
Wild  strawberry  and  thyme 
In  safety  seek.  The  pretty  little  kids 

Fear  not  green  serpents’  slime, 

Nor  savage  wolves.  Now,  Tyndaris,  the  vales 
And  the  smooth  rocks  above 
Ustica  nestling  deep,  to  thy  sweet  pipe 
Echo  the  strains  of  love. 

The  Gods  guard  me.  My  virtues  and  my  Muse 
Dear  to  each  God-like  heart  ; 

Whilst  Plenty’s  bounteous  horn  full  fill’d  to  thee 
Shall  rural  v^ealth  impart. 


^  -V*- 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Here  in  deep  vale  thou  shalt  the  dog-star’s  heat 
Avoid  ;  on  Teian  string 
One  man  Penelope  and  Circe  bright 
To  love  inspiring  sing. 

Here  harmless  Lesbian  cup  thou  shalt  enjoy 
Under  the  shade,  nor  shall 
The  son  of  Semele  with  Mars  contend. 

Lest  Cyrus  thee  assail 

With  unchaste  hands  in  wanton  passion  hot, 
Belov’d,  thou  need’st  not  fear, 

Nor  lest  the  garland  in  thy  tresses  twin’d 
And  modest  robe  he  tear. 


28 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XVIIL 


To  Varus. 


ARUS,  plant  thou  no  tree  before  the  sacred  vine 


r  In  Tibur’s  fertile  soil  or  by  Catilus’  wall, 

For  thirsting  souls  doth  God  to  cruel  pangs  consign 
And  by  no  other  means  our  biting  cares  recoil. 

Who,  after  wine,  can  war  or  poverty  abuse  ? 

Who  does  not  Father  Bacchus  or  fair  Venus  call  ? 

But,  lest  of  Bacchus’  gifts  you  pass  the  mod’rate  use. 

Let  Centaurs’  strife  with  Lapithae  in  drunken  brawl 

Warn  you.  Evius  the  greedy  Thracians  warned  in  wrath, 
When  in  their  lust  they  could  not  right  from  wrong 
disclose. 

Bright  Bassareus  !  thee  shrinking  I  will  not  drag  forth. 

Nor  will  I  rashly  to  the  air  of  heaven  expose 

Those  mysteries  of  thine  ’neath  varied  foliage  hid. 

Cease  then  the  blatant  drums  and  Berecyntian  horn 
By  blind  Self-Love  and  Boastfulness  with  empty  head 
High  held,  and  treach’rous  Faith,  as  glass  transparent. 


borne. 


ODES  OP"  HORACE. 


ODE  XiX. 
On  Glvcera 


XW^HE  cruel  mother  of  the  Loves, 
III  The  son  of  Theban  Semele, 
And  frolic  Licence  me  reproves 
That  love  forsaken  was  by  me. 


Me  Glycera’s  sweet  beauty  burns, 

Than  Parian  marble  fairer  too. 

My  brain  her  arch  coquetting  turns, 
Her  lustrous  face  too  bright  to  view. 

Venus,  possessing  all  my  heart, 

Has  Cyprus  left,  nor  lets  me  sing 

Of  Scythians,  nor  of  Parthian  stout 
On  flying  steed,  nor  anything. 

Ho  !  slaves,  bring  here  the  living  grass. 
The  frankincense  and  green  vervain  ; 

Of  two-year’s  wine  Pll  pour  a  glass 
And  her  appease  by  victim  slain. 


30 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XX. 

1'  o  Maecenas. 


AECENAS  thou,  dear  knight,  shalt  drink 
Poor  Sabine  wine  from  goblets  small. 
Which  in  a  Grecian  cask  I  stored 
When  with  thy  praises  rung  the  hall 


So  loud  that  from  the  lofty  banks 
Of  thy  paternal  river  came. 

And  from  the  mount  of  Vatican 
The  joyous  echo  of  thy  fame. 

Grapes  squeezed  in  the  Calenian  press. 
Rich  Caecuban  is  also  thine. 

But  neither  mantle  in  my  cups 
The  Formian  nor  Falernian  wine. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXL 

On  Diana  and  Apollo. 


^VVEET  virgins,  chaunt  Diana’s  praise, 

To  unshorn  C3.mthius,  boys,  the  chorus  raise, 
Latona,  dearest  love 
Of  Jove,  supreme  above. 


Sing,  girls,  to  her  the  streams  who  loves. 
Of  frosty  Algidus  the  shady  groves. 

On  Erymanthus  seen. 

Or  lofty  Cragus  green. 

Tempe  and  Delos,  natal  place 
Of  Phoebus,  boys,  extol  with  equal  grace. 
Whose  shoulder  quiver  wears. 
His  brother’s  lyre  he  bears. 


The  one  sad  war,  the  other  dearth 
And  plague,  to  Medes  and  Britons  shall  drive  forth  ; 
To  Romans  and  their  chief 
Your  prayers  shall  bring  relief. 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXII. 

To  A  R  I  S  T  I  u  s  F  u  s  c  u  s . 


A|^HE  man  whose  life  is  just  and  pure 
Needs  not  the  javelin  of  the  Moor, 
Nor  bow,  nor  quiver’s  ample  store, 
Fuscus,  of  poisoned  darts. 


Sailing  thro’  Syrtes’  boiling  waves  ; 

Or  when  wild  Caucasus  he  braves  ; 

Or  lands  which  famed  Hydaspes  laves. 
On  journey  safe  he  starts. 


For  whilst  I  wandered  carelessly 
Thro’  Sabine  wood,  my  Falage 
Singing,  a  wolf  fled  far  from  me, 

Tho’  helpless  and  unarmed. 


Such  monster  thro’  the  spreading  groves 
Of  warlike  Daunia  never  moves. 

Such  the  dry  land  which  Juba  loves, 
Hath  never  yet  alarmed. 


c 


33 


34 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXIII. 
To  C  II  L  O  E  . 


’OU  shun  me,  Chloe,  like  a  fawn 
Her  trembling  mother  seeking 
O’er  pathless  hills,  with  causeless  fear 
Of  winds  and  branches  creaking. 

At  rustling  murmur  of  the  leaves. 

The  dawn  of  spring  awaking. 

Or  brambles  stirr’d  by  lizards  green. 
Both  heart  and  knees  are  shaking. 

No  lion  I,  nor  tiger  rough. 

With  fell  intent  pursue  thee  ; 

Then  leave  thy  mother’s  side  at  last. 
Of  age  for  man  to  woo  thee. 


35 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXIV. 
To  Virgil 


l^IRGIL,  what  shame  or  limit  shall  there  be 
Y  Of  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  one  so  dear  ? 

Now  teach  me  mournful  strains,  Melpomene, 

To  whom  God  gave  the  harp  and  accents  clear. 

Sleeps  then  Quinctilius  in  eternal  death  ? 

Oh  !  when  shall  Modesty  and  Faith  unstained. 

Of  Justice  sister  pure,  and  unveiled  Truth 

The  equal  find  to  him  whose  life  hath  waned  ? 

For  his  sad  death  do  many  good  men  weep  ; 

More  deeply  none  than  you  in  grief  complain  ! 
Alas  !  Quinctilius,  whom  the  Gods  now  keep. 

Your  piety  must  still  demand  in  vain  ! 

What  tho’  more  sweetly  to  the  list’ning  woods 

Than  Thracian  Orpheus  you  could  sound  the  lyre. 
The  life  may  not  return  to  empty  shades 
When  Mercury  at  last,  with  aspect  dire. 

To  prayers  unyielding,  instrument  of  Fate, 

To  the  black  throng  hath  driven  with  awful  wand  ! 
’Tis  hard  indeed  !  But  patience  will  abate 
Those  evils  ’tis  unlawful  to  amend. 


3b 


BOOK  1. 


ODE  XXV. 
To  Lydia. 


More  seldom  now  your  windows  close 

The  youths  attack  with  doubled  blows, 
Your  door  unto  its  threshold  grows, 

Which  oped  on  hinges  flying. 

More  seldom  are  your  slumbers  drear 
Disturbed  ;  more  seldom  do  you  hear  : — 

“  All  night  why  sleep’st  thou,  Lydia  dear, 

“  Whilst  I  for  thee  am  dying  ?  ” 

An  aged  crone,  you’ll  sorrow  soon 
In  lonely  den,  for  lovers  gone, 

Whilst  thro’  the  changes  of  the  moon 
The  Thracian  wind  is  raging. 

^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

Hot  youth  the  living  ivy  more. 

And  sprouting  myrtle,  doth  adore, 

Than  withered  leaves  on  Hebrus’  shore, 

Cold  winter’s  comrades,  drifting. 


37 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXVL 

On  a  e  l  I  u  s  Lamia. 


Friend  of  the  Muse,  to  boist’rous  p;ales 
ril  cast  all  grief  and  fear, 

To  Cretan  sea  to  bear : 

What  region  Arctic  king  assails 

Careless,  or  Tiridates’  grief. 

Sweet  Muse,  whom  fountains  clear 
Delight,  the  sunny  flower 
For  Lamia  mine  in  garland  weave. 

Without  thee  valueless  is  praise : 

Thou  and  thy  sisters  too 
My  friend  with  lute-strings  new 
And  Lesbian  bow,  immortalize. 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXVII. 

To  MY  Comrades. 


^WKO  fight  o’er  cups  for  joys  designed 
A  Indeed  is  but  a  Thracian  way  ; 
Banish  such  savage  use  !  Abstain, 

In  mod’rate  wine,  from  bloody  fray. 


Ill  does  the  dagger  of  the  Mede 

With  sparkling  wine  and  lights  accord  ! 
Cease  wicked  riot ;  comrades,  stay 
On  elbows  pressed  around  the  board. 


Of  strong  Falernian  do  you  wish 
That  I  should  also  take  my  part  ? 

Let  young  Megilla’s  brother  tell 

His  happy  wound,  his  love-cleft  heart ! 

You  wont  ?  Then  I  refuse  to  drink 
On  other  terms.  Whatever  love 
Burns  you  should  never  raise  a  blush. 

But  pure  and  innocent  should  prove. 


I 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Come,  boy,  whate’er  thy  passion  be, 

To  faithful  ears  entrust  the  tale. — 
Wretch  !  worthy  of  a  nobler  flame. 
Near  what  Charybdis  dost  thou  sail  ? 

What  witch,  or  what  Thessalian  sage, 
What  God  indeed  can  set  thee  free  ? 
Triformed  Chimaera  holds  thee  bound. 
Scarce  Pegasus  could  rescue  thee ! 


40 


ODE  XXVIIL 
Archytas. 


RCHYTAS,  measurer  of  earth  and  sea 
And  countless  sand,  the  gift  denied  to  thee 
Of  but  a  little  dust,  to  hold  prevails 
Upon  Matinus’  shore  !  Nought  it  avails 

To  have  explored  in  thought  the  realms  of  sky 
And  all  the  rotund  world,  foredoomed  to  die  ! 
Guest  of  the  Gods,  so  too  died  Pclops’  sire  : 

To  heaven  Tithonus  must  at  last  aspire  : 

And  Minos,  tho’  Jove’s  secrets  given  to  know. 
Pythagoras  sent  back  to  shades  below 
Orcus  contains,  altho’  Euphorbus’  shield 
Retaken,  Troy  recalled.  Did  he  but  yield 


Sinews  and  skin  alone  to  livid  death  ? 

Say  thou,  keen  judge  of  nature  and  of  truth  ! 

Ah  !  the  same  night  shall  shroud  each  mortal  head. 
And  the  same  path  of  death  we  all  must  tread  ! 


41 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

As  sport  to  Mars  the  Furies  some  consign  ; 

Sailors  are  swallowed  by  the  greedy  brine. 

Together  mixed,  the  funerals  combine 

Of  old  and  young  :  none  spares  dread  Proserpine ! 

The  swift  South  wind,  Orion’s  setting  mate. 

In  waves  Illyrian  swept  me  to  my  fate. 

Sailor  !  grudge  not  a  little  shifting  sand 
To  hide  my  body  in  the  cruel  strand. 

So  when  the  East  wind  threats  th’  Hesperian  sea 
The  Venusinian  woods  shall  shaken  be. 

Yet  you  be  safe.  And  still  may  rich  reward 
Be  yours  from  every  port,  just  Jove  your  guard 

And  Neptune,  keeper  of  Tarentum’s  shrine. 

Beware  lest  lightly  you  commit  a  crime 
Your  offspring  must  repay.  Appointed  doom 
And  retribution  stern  on  you  shall  come. 

No  useless  prayers  will  e’er  suffice  for  me. 

From  death  no  expiation  set  you  free. 

’Twill  not  delay  you  long,  tho’  great  your  speed. 
The  dust  thrice  cast  on  me,  you  may  proceed. 


42 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXIX. 
To  I c  c  I  u  s . 


ICCIUS,  the  rich  Arabian  spoils 
'You  covet  now,  and  cruel  war 
’Gainst  hitherto  unconquered  kings 
Of  Saba  and  fierce  Mede,  prepare. 

Fetters  you  link.  What  barb’rous  girl, 

Her  husband  slain,  your  slave  shall  bend  ? 
What  princely  boy,  with  locks  perfumed. 

On  you  with  wine-cup  shall  attend. 

Taught  with  paternal  bow  to  aim 
The  Seric  darts  ?  Who  will  deny 
That  flowing  rivers  may  return 
To  lofty  hills,  and  Tiber  dry, 

Since  you,  who  promised  better  things, 
(Panaetius’  noble  books  you  bought,) 

Now  the  Socratic  school  exchange 
For  corslets  in  Iberia  wrought. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXX. 
To  Venus. 


NIDOS’  and  Paphos’  beauteous  Queen 
5  Oh  Venus  !  Cyprus  lov’d  disdain, 
And  haste  to  Glycera’s  stately  fane, 

With  incense  thee  invoking  ! 


Haste  thy  bright  Boy,  the  Graces  three 
With  zones  unbound,  and  Nymphs  with  thee 
And  lusty  Youth,  and  Mercury, 

Without  thee  little  pleasing  ! 


BOOK  I. 

ODE  XXXI. 
To  Apollo. 


dedication  of  Apollo’s  shrine 
What  asks  the  bard  ?  What  is  his  prayer 
When  pouring  from  the  chalice  newest  wine  ? 
Not  rich  Sardinia’s  harvest  rare  ; 

Nor  hot  Calabria’s  fruitful  herds  ;  nor  gold, 

'  Nor  ivory  of  Ind  ;  nor  fields 
Which  the  still  waters  of  the  stream  enfold 
Where  Liris,  silent  river,  glides. 


Let  those  who  from  fair  fortune  vineyards  hold, 
With  pruning-knife  of  Cales  cut ! 

Let  the  rich  merchant  quaff  from  cups  of  gold. 
The  wines  with  Syran  profits  bought ! 

Lov’d  of  the  Gods,  since  safely  every  year 
He  thrice  or  four  times  ploughs  the  sea 

Of  Atlas  vast !  The  olive  is  my  fare. 

Endive  and  mallow  light  for  me. 

Son  of  Latona  !  grant  me  to  enjoy 
My  own  with  mind  and  body  sane  ! 

Nor  let  dishonour  my  old  age  alloy. 

Nor  let  me  crave  the  lyre  in  vain  ! 


45 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXXIL 
To  My  Lyre. 


46 


^  E*RE  called  !  If  idly  in  the  shade, 
r  r  Oh  Lyre  I  with  thee  Eve  ever  played 
In  future  years  what  ne’er  shall  fade, 

Xow  sound  a  Latin  ode. 

Thee  Lesbian  townsman  first  did  sound 
Who,  fierce  in  war,  when  peace  returned, 

Or  when  his  battered  keel  he  found 

To  sea-s^vept  shore  was  moored, 

Of  Bacchus  sang,  and  Muses  coy. 

Of  Venus,  and  the  sprightly  Boy 
Her  comrade.  Lycus,  comely  too. 

Black  both  his  eyes  and  hair. 

Oh  !  honoured  by  Apollo’s  love 
Harp,  grateful  at  the  feasts  of  Jove, 

To  labours  mine  propitious  prove. 

And  hear  my  constant  prayer. 


} 


I 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXXIIL 
To  Albius  Tibullus. 


LBIUS,  lament  not  thou  too  long 
Hard-hearted  Glycera’s  broken  vow. 
Nor  chaunt  thy  grief  in  mournful  song, 
Because  she  loves  a  younger  now. 

Lycoris,  famed  for  forehead  small, 

For  Cyrus  burns  ;  Pholoe  rough 
Cyrus  prefers  ;  but  sooner  shall 
The  she-goat  wed  Apulian  wolf. 

Than  she  with  that  vile  sinner  mate. 

Thus  Venus  wills.  With  cruel  joke. 
Bodies  and  souls  ill-matched  by  fate. 

She  loves  to  bind  in  brazen  yoke. 

Whilst  nobler  love  was  seeking  me. 
Slave-born  Myrtale  held  me  fast 
In  pleasing  chain,  wild  as  the  sea 
Of  Hadria  on  Calabrian  coast. 


47 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXXIV. 


|r||F  Gods  a  worshipper  remiss  and  rare, 

\F  Whilst  erring  wisdom’s  tenets  once  I  held  ; 
Backward  to  sail,  paths  that  deserted  were 
Again  to  traverse,  I  am  now  compelled. 

For  the  God-Father,  who  oft-times  divides 

With  flashing  fire  the  clouds,  thro’  clear  sky  now 
His  thund’ring  coursers  and  swift  chariot  guides. 
Now  the  dull  earth  and  wand’ring  rivers’  flow, 

Now  the  black  Styx,  and  that  most  dread  abode 
Of  hated  Taenarus,  and  the  distant  range 
Of  Atlas  huge,  are  shaken  by  the  God. 

The  lowest  depths  to  loftiest  heights  to  change 

Can  God  prevail.  Th’  exalted  he  brings  down. 
And  lifts  the  poor.  Rapacious  Fortune  tears. 
With  crashing  sound,  from  one  the  lofty  crown, 
Which  she  rejoices  when  another  wears. 


^  V 


48 


BOOK  1. 


ODE  XXXV. 
To  Fortune 


ODDESS  !  who  dost  o’er  pleasant  Antium  reign, 
Potent  poor  mortal  man  to  raise  again 
From  lowest  step,  or  triumphs  proud 
To  change  at  will  to  wailings  loud. 


Thee  the  poor  rustic,  with  entreaty  grave. 
Solicits.  Thee,  queen  of  the  tossing  wave. 

In  gallant  bark  Bithynian  he 

Who  ploughs  the  deep  Carpathian  sea. 

Thee  the  rough  Dacian,  thee  the  flying  Mede, 
Cities,  and  nations,  and  fierce  Latium  dread  ; 

Of  barbarous  kings  the  mothers  dear. 
And  tyrants  clad  in  purple  fear. 

The  standing  column  do  not  overturn 
With  spurning  foot  ;  nor  let  the  people  burn 
With  mad  sedition,  nor  incite 
Those  ceasing  now,  the  realm  to  smite. 


D 


49 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Stern  Fate  before  thee  doth  for  ever  stand, 

Huge  spikes  and  wedges  in  her  brazen  hand 
She  bears,  nor  is  the  rivet  dread 
Forgotten,  nor  the  molten  lead. 

Thee  Hope  doth  worship,  and  infrequent  Faith, 

Veiled  in  white  robe,  nor  doth  she  quit  thy  path 
Altho’,  thy  vesture  changed,  in  grief 
The  houses  of  the  great  thou  leave. 

When  faithless  crowd  and  perjured  wanton  fly  ; 

When  treach’rous  friends,  on  whom  you  now  rely. 
Prove  faithless  in  misfortune’s  strain, 

And  to  the  dregs  your  casks  you  drain. 

Preserve  thou  Caesar,  now  about  to  go 

To  distant  Britain,  and  his  levies  new. 

Whom  Eastern  lands  with  fear  shall  sec. 
And  ruddy  Erythraean  sea. 

Alas  !  of  scars  and  fratricidal  rage 

I  am  ashamicd.  What  have  we  fled,  harsh  age  ? 

What  sin  is  left  untouched  ?  What  pains 
Of  Gods  the  hand  of  youth  restrains  ? 

What  altars  have  they  spared  ?  Oh  !  I  would  fain 

Our  blunted  swords  that  thou  would’st  forge  again 
On  anvil  new,  to  overthrow 
Massagctac  and  Arab  foe. 


BOOK  I. 


ODE  XXXVI. 


To  Plotius  Numida. 


If  ITITH  incense  and  with  lyre  I  praise, 


And  with  a  votive  heifer  slain, 


The  guardian  Gods  of  Numida  ; 

Who,  safe  returned  from  distant  Spain, 

■ 

To  his  dear  comrades  kisses  gives 
Now  many,  yet  to  no  one  more 
Than  to  sweet  Lamia,  mindful  of 
Their  boyish  pranks  in  days  of  yore. 

And  virile  gown  together  donned. 

Mark  this  bright  day  with  chalk  from  Crete, 
Nor  spare  the  wine-jar  now  produced. 

Nor  rest  from  Salian  dance  the  feet. 

Let  not  the  thirsty  Damalis 

In  Thracian  draught  with  Bassus  vie. 

Nor  rose  be  absent  from  the  feast. 

Nor  parsley  fresh,  nor  lily  shy. 

On  Damalis  their  longing  eyes 
All  fix,  yet  she  from  lover  new 
Will  not  be  torn  away,  to  whom 
Like  clinging  ivy  she  is  true. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

ODE  XXXVII. 

To  MY  Companions. 


W,  comrades,  is  the  time  to  drink, 

To  beat  the  ground  with  nimble  feet 
And  now  the  temples  to  adorn 

Of  Gods  with  Salian  feasts  ’tis  meet. 

Till  now  unlawful  to  bring  forth. 

From  stores  ancestral,  Caecuban, 

Whilst  ruin  to  the  Capitol 

And  Empire’s  fall  prepared  the  Queen. 

Surrounded  by  her  creatures  base. 

Foul  with  disease,  she  weakly  raved 
And,  drunk  with  fortune,  all  things  hoped  : 
But  scarce  from  flames  one  galley  saved. 

Bated  her  rage,  and  forced  her  mind. 

With  Mareotic  wine  possessed. 

Flying,  real  fears  to  entertain  ; 

When  Caesar  in  swift  galleys  pressed 

From  Italy,  (as  gentle  doves 

A  hawk  pursues,  or  hunter  keen. 

In  snowy  Haemus’  fields,  the  hare). 

That  he  might  give  to  binding  chain 


BOOK  I. 

The  fatal  monster,  who  nor  feared, 
Effeminate,  the  sharp-edged  brand. 
Seeking  a  nobler  death,  nor  fled 
In  galley  swift  to  unknown  land. 

Her  falling  palace  dared  to  view 
With  eyes  serene,  and  angry  snake 
To  fondle  bravely  in  her  breast. 

That  fatal  venom  she  might  take. 

Firm  in  premeditated  death. 

No  trembling  girl,  she  scorned,  I  ween. 
By  rough  Liburnians  to  be  led 

In  triumph  proud, — a  discrowned  Queen. 


) 


53 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXXVIII. 
To  MV  Slave. 


H  Slave  !  the  Persian  pomps  I  hate, 
Garlands  I  hate  with  linden  twined, 
Cease,  where  the  last  rose  lingers  late. 
Thy  search  to  find. 


To  simple  myrtle  let  thy  care 

Nought  add  I  pray  ;  thou  serving  wine 
And  quaffing  I,  both  fitly  wear 

’Neath  branching  vine. 


BOOK  II. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  I. 


To  Asinius  Pollio. 


HE  Civil  War  you  write,  which  first  began 
Metellus  Consul  ;  of  its  cause,  its  plan. 
Its  crimes  ;  of  fortune’s  varying  turn. 
And  of  its  chieftains’  compact  stern  ; 


And  of  arms  stained  with  gore  still  unatoned.  ' 
Your  work  with  risk  and  danger  doth  abound  ; 
Walking  o’er  hidden  fires,  you  trust 
Yourself  to  ashes’  treach’rous  crust. 


Your  tragic  studies  now  awhile  abate. 

Whilst  your  own  country’s  hist’ry  you  relate  : 

That  great  work  done,  you  may  again 
To  Grecian  tragedy  return. 


Pollio,  of  sad  defendants  advocate, 

Bri  ght  ornament  of  consulting  Senate  ; 

Dalmatian  triumphs  circle  now 
Eternal  laurels  round  your  brow. 


55 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


And  now  our  ears  with  trumpets’  threat’ning  blare 
You  stun  ;  now  clarions  ring  ;  now  armour’s  glare 
The  flying  courser  terrifies, 

And  blinds  the  gallant  horseman’s  eyes. 

Of  mighty  leaders  now  I  seem  to  hear, 

Whom  no  dishonourable  stains  besmear  ; 

I  hear  of  all  the  world  subdued. 

Save  stubborn  Cato’s  fortitude. 

Juno,  and  all  the  Gods  to  Libya  kind. 

Helpless  t’  avenge,  that  land  have  left  behind  ; 

The  offspring  of  the  victors  brave 
Are  offered  on  Jugurtha’s  grave. 

What  land,  by  tombs  enriched  with  Latin  gore. 
Does  not  bear  witness  of  our  impious  war  ? 

The  echoes  of  Hesperia’s  fall 
Are  heard  on  distant  Persia’s  soil. 

What  pool,  what  rivers,  ignorant  remain 
Of  wretched  strife  ?  What  sea  the  hideous  stain 
Of  Daunian  slaughter  does  not  know  ? 

On  what  shore  does  our  blood  not  flow  ? — 

But  cease,  my  sprightly  Muse,  this  fun’ral  strain. 
Thy  merry  mood  forgot,  t’  attempt  again  ; 

On  cheerful  harp  a  lighter  stave 
Come  sing  with  me  in  Venus’  cave ! 


) 


S. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  II. 

To  Crispus  Sallustius. 


^RISPUS  SALLUSTIUS,  who  mere  dross  dost  scorn, 
No  beauty  can  there  be  in  silvern  coin 
When  it  is  hid  in  greedy  earth. 

In  template  use  its  only  worth. 

To  lengthened  age  shall  Proculeius  live 

Who,  like  a  father,  did  the  wants  relieve 

Of  his  lov’d  brothers.  Lasting  fame. 

On  wing  untiring,  bears  his  name. 

A  wider  empire  thou  shalt  truly  find 

All  greed  by  banishing  from  out  thy  mind. 

Than  if  Libya  far  Gades  join. 

Thee  Carthaginian  serve  alone. 

By  self-indulgence  dropsy  will  increase  ; 

Nor  can  you  conquer  thirst,  till  of  disease 

The  cause  from  veins  hath  taken  flight, 

And  water  from  the  body  white. 


57 


1 


ODES  OF  EIORACE. 

Virtue,  aye  differing  from  the  common  herd, 
Excepts  Phraates,  to  the  throne  restored 

Of  Cyrus,  from  the  band  of  blest. 
How  false  the  voices  of  the  rest  ! 

To  him  alone  a  kingdom  will  she  give. 

Safe  crown  and  laurel  certain,  who  can  live. 

Nor  e’er  with  wistful  eye  behold 
The  heaps  piled  high  of  ruddy  gold. 


5« 


BOOK  TI. 


ODE  HI. 

To  Dellius. 


1|ELLIUS,  ere  long  to  die,  do  thou  maintain 
^  In  poverty  a  steadfast  heart ; 

Nor,  if  thou  should’st  prosperity  attain. 

Let  it  a  boastful  joy  impart ! 

Whether  in  sorrow  hath  thy  life  been  spent. 

Or  thou  thro’  festal  days  recline 
In  some  secluded  rustic  home  content. 

Quaffing  the  old  Falernian  wine. 

Where  the  tall  pine  and  silver  poplar  love 
Their  boughs  to  join  in  grateful  shade  ; 

Where  the  swift  brooklet  dashes  through  the  grove, 
With  rippling  stream  o’er  winding  bed. 

Here  wines  and  perfumes  order  to  be  borne. 

And  short-liv’d  buds  of  dainty  rose. 

Whilst  means,  and  youth,  and  sable  threads  unspun 
Of  the  three  sisters,  fate  allows. 


59 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

From  purchased  groves,  from  home,  thou  must  depart. 
Thy  villa  tawny  Tiber  by  ; 

Thine  heir  shall  take  the  wealth  which  now  thou  art 
With  anxious  labour  piling  high. 

It  matters  not  however  rich  thou  be. 

From  ancient  Inachus  descend  ; 

Or  poor  and  low,  thine  only  roof  the  sky, 

Unpitying  Orcus  is  thine  end. 

To  the  same  bourne  Fates  ev’ry  mortal  drive  ; 

In  the  same  urn  of  all  the  lot 
Is  cast  ;  to  endless  exile  we  arrive. 

Sooner  or  later  by  the  boat. 


6o 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  IV. 

To  Xanthias  Phoceus. 


XANTHIAS  PHOCEUS,  be  not  ashamed 
Because  you  love  your  pretty  slave, 

For  snowy  skin  Briseis  famed 

Once  fired  with  love  Achilles  brave  : 

Lord  Ajax,  son  of  Telamon, 

Captive  Tecmessa’s  beauty  moved  ; 

A  ravish’d  maid,  Agamemnon, 

In  midst  of  triumph  hotly  loved. 

When  the  barbarian  troops  were  slain 
In  the  Thessalian  victory  ; 

And,  Hector  dead,  did  Troy  remain 
To  weary  Greeks  an  easy  prey. 

For  aught  you  know  fair  Phyllis  springs 
Of  fit  descent  with  you  to  mate  ; 

Descended  from  a  line  of  kings. 

She  weeps  an  unpropitious  fate. 


6i 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Think  not  that  she  who  wins  your  love 
Comes  of  a  vile  plebeian  race  ; 

So  faithful  she,  all  greed  above, 

Cannot  be  born  of  mother  base. 

Untouched  myself,  her  arms  I  praise. 
Her  face,  and  her  proportions  fair  ; 
Let  .not  my  song  suspicion  raise. 

Who  now  approach  my  fortieth  year. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  V. 


OT  yet  ’tis  fitting  that  her  neck  should  wear 
/L  Y  i"he  heavy  yoke,  nor  can  she  equal  prove 
To  matron’s  duties,  nor  the  burden  bear 

Of  eager  husband’s  love. 

Of  verdant  fields  your  heifer  thinks  instead. 
Delighting  now  the  sultry  heat  t’  assuage 
In  flowing  streams,  now  in  moist  osier  bed 

With  calves  in  play  t’  engage. 

Do  not  indulge  a  craving  appetite 

For  unripe  grapes  ;  soon  autumn  will  for  you 

The  half-grown  clusters  change  to  purple  bright 

From  their  now  pallid  hue. 

Soon  will  she  love  you  ;  warm  maturity 
Hastes  on  ;  the  years  it  shall  have  ta’en  from  you 
Will  soon  be  hers  ;  soon  Lalage 

A  husband  will  pursue. 


63 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Than  fading  Pholoe  or  than  Chloris  she 

Far  more  beloved  ;  her  shoulders  gleaming  white, 

As  the  pure  moon  upon  the  midnight  sea, 

Or  Cnidian  Gyges  bright ; 

Whom,  if  among  a  group  of  girls  you  lead, 

His  flowing  locks  and  doubtful  countenance 
So  slightly  differ,  that  they  might  mislead, 

A  stranger’s  keenest  glance. 


■  ^1^. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  VI. 

To  S  E  P  T  I  M  I  U  S  . 


SEPTIMIUS,  who  with  me  would  fly 
To  Gades,  or  the  Cantabri 
Untamed  to  yoke,  or  where  wild  Syrtes  o’er 
The  Moorish  waves  aye  roar. 

May  Tibur,  founded  by  the  Greeks, 

The  refuge  be  my  old  age  seeks, 

There  the  fatigues  of  sea  be  known  no  more. 
Of  travel,  or  of  war. 

Whence  if  the  angry  PMtes  debar. 
Galaesus’  streams,  which  pleasing  are 
To  fleecy  sheep.  Til  seek,  and  Spartan  plains 
O’er  which  Phalantus  reigns. 


That  corner  of  the  earth  I  love 
The  most,  where  doth  the  honey  prove 
Sweet  as  Hymettus’,  and  whose  olives’  size 
With  green  Venafrian  vies. 


E 


65 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Where  a  long  spring  the  climate  yields 
And  winters  mild,  where  Aulon  shields 
The  fruitful  vine  ;  and  where  one  covets  least 
Falernian  grapes  to  feast. 

That  country  and  those  happy  heights 
Demand  us  both,  whilst  love  invites 
Thee  o’er  the  ashes  of  thy  poet-friend  there 
To  shed  affection’s  tear. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  VII. 
To  POMPEY. 


OH  !  oft  reduced  with  me  to  hardest  straits, 

When  Brutus  was  our  leader  in  the  war  ; 

Who  hath  restored  thee  to  thy  civil  rights, 

Thy  country’s  Gods,  and  the  Italian  shore, 

Pompey,  thou  dearest  of  my  friends?  With  thee 
Oft  have  I  whiled  away  with  purest  wine 
The  ling’ring  day.  Then,  crowned  my  tresses  free 
With  unguents  from  far  Syria  brought,  did  shine. 

With  thee  Philippi  and  swift  flight  I  found. 

My  shield  ingloriously  away  was  thrown. 

When  valour  shattered  was,  and  to  base  ground 
Fell  daring  warriors  on  their  faces  prone. 

In  a  dense  cloud  swift  Mercury  bore  me 

Through  hostile  ranks,  all  trembling  with  affright  ; 
In  boiling  waves  the  sea  engulphed  thee. 

Bearing  thee  back  again  to  furious  fight. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


But  now  restored,  give  thou  to  Father  Jove 
The  feast  thou  promised,  and  thy  form  recline, 
By  long  war  wearied,  in  my  laurel  grove. 

Nor  spare  thy  destined  gift,  my  casks  of  wine. 

With  care-dispelling  Massic  do  thou  fill 

The  sparkling  glasses,  and  pour  perfumes  rich 
From  the  capacious  shell.  What  slave  now  will 
Weave  garlands  quickly  from  the  parsley  fresh, 

Or  from  the  myrtle  ?  Whom  shall  Venus  name 
As  ruler  of  the  feast  ?  Fll  rave  as  mad 
As  Bacchanals  !  When  I  my  friend  reclaim. 

To  lose  my  senses  in  delight  Fm  glad. 


BOOK  TI. 


ODE  VIII. 
To  Bakin  e . 


IF  any  penalty  for  oath  forsworn 

Had  ever  injured  thee,  Barine  fair  ; 

If  thou,  by  blacken’d  tooth,  or  one  nail  gone. 
Less  lovely  did’st  appear, 

I  might  believe  thee.  But  thy  faithless  brow 
No  sooner  dost  thou  bind  with  oaths  again. 
Than  fairer  still  thou  shinest,  and  dost  grow 
Of  youth  the  gen’ral  pain. 

To  thee  ’tis  of  advantage  to  deceive 
Thy  mother’s  buried  corse,  and  silent  signs 
Of  night,  and  heaven  itself,  and  Gods  to  grieve. 
Free  from  cold  death’s  confines. 

Venus  herself,  I  tell  thee,  laughs  at  this. 

The  careless  Nymphs  and  cruel  Cupid  smile. 
His  glowing  darts  who  always  sharp’ning  is 
On  bloody  hone  the  while. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Then  add  to  this  that  all  the  growing  boys 
Still  grow  for  thee,  a  band  of  lovers  new  ; 
Nor  do  the  old  quit  their  hard  mistress’  joys, 
Oft  threat’ning  so  to  do. 


Now  for  their  young  ones  ’gainst  thee  mothers  pray 
And  misers  old  ;  and  youthful  matrons  fear, 

Still  dreading  lest  thy  beauty  steal  away 

From  them  their  husbands  dear. 


70 


BOOK  II, 


ODE  IX. 


To  Valgius. 


OT  always  from  the  clouds  do  showers  descend 


Ay  Upon  the  furrowed  fields  ;  nor  aye  contend 
The  varying  storms  with  Caspian  main  ; 
Nor  does  the  inert  ice  remain, 

Friend  Valgius,  on  the  wild  Armenian  shore 
Thro’  the  whole  year  ;  nor  always  north  winds  roar 


The  oaks  of  Garganus  around, 

Nor  ash-leaves  flutter  to  the  ground. 


Yet  thou  dost  always  Mystes  lost  pursue 
With  mournful  measures,  and  thy  love  renew 


Again  at  Vesper’s  evening  rise. 
And  when  the  rapid  sun  he  flies. 


For  sweet  Antilochus,  that  aged  man 
Thro’  his  long  life,  prolonged  to  triple  span. 


Mourned  not  ;  nor  did  his  parents,  nor 
His  Phrygian  sisters  aye  deplore 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Young  Troilus.  Thy  tender  murmuring 
Now  cease  at  length,  and  rather  let  us  sing 
Augustus  Caesar’s  triumphs  bold 
Renewed,  and  the  Niphates  cold, 

And  Median  stream  which,  added  to  the  spoils 
That  he  hath  won,  in  lesser  volume  rolls  ; 

And  the  Geloni,  who  are  tied 
In  narrow  bound  prescribed  to  ride. 


72 


HOOK  II. 


ODE  X. 

To  L  I  c  I  N  I  u  s  . 


ICINIUS,  thou  wilt  better  fare, 


iLf  Not  always  traversing  the  deep  ; 
Nor,  dreading  storms  with  anxious  care. 
Too  near  the  dangerous  shore  to  keep. 

Whoever  loves  the  golden  mean. 

Avoids  the  squalor  of  a  home 
Decayed  ;  yet,  prudent,  will  abstain 
To  envied  palaces  to  come. 

The  lofty  pine  more  often  still 

Is  tempest-toss’d.  With  greater  crash 
High  turrets  fall.  The  loftiest  hill 

Attracts  more  oft  the  lightning’s  flash. 

A  well-poised  mind,  if  fates  averse, 

Hopes  for  a  change  ;  but  fears  it  when 
Fair  fortune  smiles.  Dread  winter’s  curse 
The  same  God  brings,  and  takes  again. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


If  now  ’tis  ill,  it  shall  not  aye 

Be  so.  Phoebus  sometimes  will  woo, 
Upon  his  harp,  the  Muses  shy. 

Nor  doth  he  always  bend  his  bow. 

When  poverty  your  home  assails. 

Courage  and  patience  ever  show  ; 

But  wisely  then  contract  your  sails, 

When  prosp’ring  winds  around  you  blow. 


74 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  XL 

To  OUINCTIUS. 


EASE,  Quinctius,  to  enquire 
What  warlike  Cantabri  or  Medes  desire, 

From  us  divided  by  the  Hadrian  sea  ; 

Nor  let  it  trouble  thee 

For  fleeting  life  to  care. 

Which  little  needs.  Bright  youth  and  beauty  rare 
Fly  off ;  old  age  your  wanton  love  expels. 

And  placid  sleep  dispels. 

There’s  not  to  vernal  bloom 
Same  beauty  ever  ;  nor  the  blushing  moon 
With  same  face  shines.  For  heav’nly  thoughts  too  small. 
Why  do  you  vex  your  soul  ? 

Why  not  let  us  recline. 

Drinking,  whilst  yet  we  may,  beneath  the  pine, 

Or  this  tall  plane,  our  hoary  locks  bedewed 
With  rose  and  Syrian  nard  ? 


▼ 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Evius  our  biting  cares 


Drives  far  away.  What  active  slave  appears 
The  hot  Falernian  cups  to  qualify, 

From  the  stream  flowing  by  ? 


From  home  who  will  allure 
The  wanton  Lyde  here  ?  Her  iv’ry  lyre 
Go,  make  her  bring  ;  in  trim  knot  bound  her  curls, 
In  style  of  Spartan  girl’s. 


76 


BOOK  II. 


ODK  XIL 


T  O  M  A  E  C  1^  N  A  S 


A  SK  not  that  fierce  Numantia’s  lengthened  war, 
JA.  Nor  dire  Hannibal,  nor  Sicilian  sea. 
Empurpled  oft  with  Carthaginian  gore, 

Should  to  my  peaceful  lyre  adapted  be. 

Nor  ask  me  cruel  Lapithae  to  tell. 

Nor  of  Hylaeus  overcome  with  wine. 

Nor  earth-born  giants,  who  defeated  fell 
To  Hercules,  when  Saturn’s  ancient  line 

Disaster  feared.  Thou,  in  heroic  verse. 

Great  Caesar’s  wars  fiir  better  shalt  relate, 
Maecenas,  and  the  gloomy  fate  rehearse 

Of  threat’ning  kings  led  captive  through  the  street 


Licymnia,  mistress  mine,  my  tuneful  Muse 
In  sweetest  song  me  now  to  sing  desires. 
And  of  her  eyes  resplendent,  which  infuse 
Within  her  faithful  bosom  mutual  fires. 


77 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Whom  it  so  well  becomes  in  sacred  dance 
Her  graceful  feet  to  move,  in  jest  to  play, 

Or  with  the  beauteous  virgins  to  join  hands 
In  gleeful  mirth,  on  famed  Diana’s  day. 

One  of  Licymnia’s  locks  would’st  thou  consent 
To  change  for  all  Achaemenes  could  give. 

Or  the  Mygdonian  hoards  from  Phrygia  rent, 

Or  well  stored  domicile  of  Arab  chief? 

If  she  her  neck  to  kisses  hot  display. 

Or,  gently  cruel,  sweet  caress  deny 
Which,  more  than  thou,  she  joys  when  snatch’d  away 
And  sometimes  will  herself  to  ravish  fly. 


« 


i 

V 

! 


1 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  XIII. 
1'  o  A  Tree 


N  an  ill-omened  day  he  planted  thee 

Who  first  did  so.  With  impious  hand,  oh  tree, 
He  raised  thee  ;  ruin  of  his  race, 

And  of  his  village  the  disgrace. 


That  his  own  father’s  neck,  I  could  believe. 

He  may  have  broken  ;  nor  aught  would  it  grieve 
His  soul  the  midnight  blood  to  shed, 

Of  stranger  sleeping  in  his  bed. 

In  Colchian  poisons  did  he  doubtless  deal. 

And  every  wickedness  that  man  can  feel. 

Who  put  thee  in  my  field,  vile  tree. 
About  to  fall  on  blameless  me  ! 


You  cannot  always  keep  from  danger  clear, 
Tho’  cautious  still.  The  Punic  sailors  fear 

The  Bosphorus,  but  passed  its  gate, 
They  blindly  seek  an  unknown  fate. 


79 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


At  darts  and  flying  Parthians  soldiers  quail, 
Parthians  at  fetters  and  a  Roman  gaol  ; 

But  death,  with  unexpected  blow. 

Hath  seized,  and  will  seize,  men  below. 

Black  Proserpine’s  abodes  I’d  nearly  seen. 

And  Aeacus  the  judge,  and  distant  scene 

Where  dwell  the  good  ;  and  Sappho  fair. 
Complaining  in  Aeolian  air 

Of  her  own  sisters  ;  and  Alcaeus  old, 

Sounding  more  fully  on  his  harp  of  gold. 

The  hardships  of  the  sea,  of  flight. 

The  hardships  too  of  horrid  fight. 

At  both  the  Shades  still  wonder  that  they  tell 
Things  better  left  unspoken  ;  but  too  well 
The  stupid  vulgar  love  to  hear 
Of  banish’d  tyrants  and  of  war. 

What  wonder  !  When  the  hundred-headed  brute, 
Black  ears  hung  down,  lists  to  that  dulcet  flute, 
And  the  snakes  twisted  in  the  crown 
Of  the  Eumenides  sink  down  ! 

So  too  Prometheus  can  forget  his  pain. 

And  Pelops’  father,  at  that  charming  strain  ; 

No  more  to  drive  Orion  cares 
Lions  and  lynxes  from  their  lairs. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  XIV. 

To  POSTUMUS. 


Alas  !  oh  Postumus  !  oh  Postumus  ! 

The  flying  years  glide  rapidly  away  ; 
Nor  piety  to  wrinkles,  nor  old  age, 

Nor  to  all-conqu’ring  death  can  bring  delay 

My  friend,  stern  Pluto  you  could  not  appease, 
E’en  by  three  hundred  bulls  on  ev’ry  day 
That  passes  by  :  he  who  Tityus  restrains, 
With  whom  thrice-ample  Geryon  must  stay 

Under  that  awful  river,  thro’  whose  flood 
We  all  must  navigate,  you  may  be  sure. 
Whom  the  rich  bounty  of  the  earth  sustains. 
Whether  great  kings  we  be,  or  rustics  poor. 

In  vain  we  sanguinary  war  avoid  ; 

The  broken  waves  of  Adriatic  rough  ; 

In  vain  th’  injurious  South  wind  shall  we  fear. 
In  autumn  fatal  to  our  bodies’  health. 


ODES  OF  HORACE, 


Cocytus  black;  flowing  with  languid  stream, 

And  the  vile  race  of  Danaus,  and  he, 

Sisyphus  the  son  of  Aeolus,  condemned 
To  everlasting  labour,  must  we  see. 

Your  land,  your  home,  your  well-beloved  wife. 

All  must  be  left.  Nor  of  those  trees,  shall  one. 

Which  now  you  plant,  follow  their  short-liv’d  lord. 
Save  the  detested  cypresses  alone. 

A  worthier  heir  the  Caecuban  shall  drink. 

Which  now  preserve  a  hundred  keys  at  least  ; 

The  pavement  he  shall  stain  with  gen’rous  wine. 
Better  than  that  which  serves  high  pontiff’s  feast. 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  XV 


^jj^RE  long  increasing  palaces  will  leave 
JI14  Few  acres  to  the  plough.  We  shall  perceive 
Ponds  wider  than  the  Lucrine  lake 
On  ev’ry  side.  The  barren  plane  will  take 


The  place  of  elms.  Of  violets  the  banks, 

Myrtles,  and  scented  herbs  in  copious  ranks. 

Will  scatter  odours  through  the  wood. 
Where  olives  once  were  fruitful  for  their  lord. 

Then  the  dense  laurel  with  its  boughs  will  shade 
From  scorching  beams.  Not  these  the  habits  made 
By  Romulus  and  Cato  rough. 

And  laws  for  our  forefathers  good  enough. 

With  them  the  private  revenues  were  small, 

The  public,  large.  No  spacious  entrance  hall. 
Measured  by  ten-foot  rule,  held  fast 
Their  private  homes  ’gainst  bitter  northern  blast. 

Nor  did  the  laws  permit  them  to  despise 
Chance  turf  for  roof :  commanding  towns  to  rise 
And  temples  of  the  Gods  enlarge. 

With  fresh-hewn  marble  at  the  public  charge. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XVL 
To  Grosphus. 


rest  to  Gods  the  sailor  cries 
A  Who,  caught  on  broad  Aegaean,  spies 
lhack  clouds  before  the  moon  arise, 

’Mid  stars’  uncertain  light. 

For  rest  the  warlike  Thracians  pray. 

For  rest  the  Mede  with  quiver  gay, 

Which,  Grosphus,  not  with  wealth  will  stay. 
With  gems,  nor  purple  bright. 

Nor  gold,  nor  guards,  can  drive  away 
The  wretched  cares  that  ever  stay. 

And  hover  round  the  ceilings  gay 
Of  lofty  vaulted  halls. 

That  man  lives  well  on  scanty  hoard 
Whose  father’s  plate  decks  frugal  board  ; 

No  fears  from  him  sweet  sleep  can  ward. 
Nor  sordid  greed  enthralls. 


BOOK  11. 


Why  are  our  transient  aims  so  high  ? 
Why  do  we  for  new  countries  sigh  ? 
What  exile  from  himself  can  fly, 
Forgetful  of  his  care  ? 

Vile  Care  the  brazen  galley  scales, 

The  troops  of  horse  she  straight  assails. 
For  swifter  she  than  eastern  gales, 

Far  swifter  than  the  deer  ! 

The  mind  content  with  present  state, 
Cares  not  what  is  in  store  from  fate. 
With  placid  smile  for  more  can  wait  ; 
No  bliss  without  alloy. 

Swift  death  renown’d  Achilles  takes. 
Old  age  Tithonus  weary  makes. 

Fate,  kind  to  me,  thy  spirit  breaks 
By  snatching  all  thy  joy. 

Around  thee  low  a  hundred  herds, 

Thy  steeds  are  swifter  than  the  birds. 
Whilst  Afric’s  richest  purple  girds 
Thy  form  in  costly  guise. 

The  truthful  Fates  have  granted  me 
A  little  farm  upon  the  lea, 

A  vein  of  Attic  minstrelsy. 

And  carpers  to  despise. 


85 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XVIL 


To  Maecenas 


HY  dost  thou  kill  me  with  thy  cry  ? 
’Tis  friendly  nor  to  Gods  nor  me 
That  thou,  Maecenas,  first  should’st  die. 

My  life’s  great  glory  and  my  stay  ! 


Ah  !  if  on  thee,  part  of  my  soul. 

Swift  blow  should  fall,  why  should  I  stay  ? 
Nor  like  belov’d,  nor  living  whole. 

Death  to  us  both  shall  bring  that  day  ! 


I  have  not  sworn  perfidious  oath. 
Where  thou  precedest,  I  will  go, — 
Will  go,  prepared  as  comrades  both. 
The  last  sad  fate  to  undergo. 


Me,  nor  Chimaera’s  fiery  breath. 

Nor  hundred-handed  Gyas  seize 
From  thee,  if  he  should  rise  from  death  ; 
So  Fates  and  mighty  Justice  please. 


•'X-'  V/ 


86 


BOOK  11 


If  Libra,  or  if  Scorpio  dread, 

Presided  at  my  natal  hour, 

Or  Capricorn  his  influence  shed, 

Who  o’er  th’  Hesperian  wave  hath  power  ; 

In  wond’rous  mode  our  stars  agree. 

Of  Jupiter  the  glorious  aid 
From  impious  Saturn  rescued  thee  ; 

Who  the  swift  wings  of  F'ate  delayed. 

When  in  the  circus  the  glad  strain 
The  crowd  on  thee  did  thrice  bestow. 

A  tree,  nigh  falling  on  my  brain, 

Had  sent  me  hence,  had  not  the  blow 


The  hand  of  Faunus  turned  away. 
Guardian  of  learned  men  !  Arise, 
Victims  and  votive  fane  to  pay  ; 

A  humble  lamb  I’ll  sacrifice  ! 


87 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XVIII. 


ivory,  nor  gold, 

Nor  fretted  ceiling  glitters  in  my  cot  ; 

Nor  beams  Hymettian  hold 
Columns  of  marble  in  far  Libya  cut  ; 

Nor,  a  usurping  heir. 

Have  I  seized  Attains’  palatial  roof ; 

Nor  do  attendants  fair 
Laconian  purple  spin  for  my  behoof. 

But  faith,  and  lib’ral  vein 
Of  intellect  are  mine.  Tho’  I  am  poor, 

To  seek  me  rich  are  fain  ; — 

I  importune  the  Gods  for  nothing  more : 

Nor  my  great  friend  I  pray 
For  more.  In  Sabine  farm  content  remain 
Day  swiftly,  follows  day. 

And  new  moons  ever  hasten  to  their  wane. 


BOOK  ‘  II. 


Tho’  now  so  near  your  doom, 

Yet  still  you  order  marble  to  be  hewn, 

Forgetful  of  the  tomb. 

The  raging  sea  pushed  back,  with  mansions  strewn 

Is  Baiae’s  lengthened  shore. 

Not  satisfied  in  nature’s  bound  to  stay. 

What !  Greedy  still  for  more, 

Y our  neighbour’s  landmarks  do  you  tear  away  ? 

,  And  your  dependents’  bound 
O’erleap  ?  Husband  and  wife  away  are  thrust 
From  their  paternal  ground. 

Clasping  their  Gods  and  infants  to  their  breast. 

No  palace  yet  awaits 

Its  wealthy  lord  more  sure  than  greedy  death 
For  you,  doomed  by  the  fates  ! 

Where  further  do  you  go  ?  Impartial  earth 


The  pauper  covers  o’er 

And  sons  of  kings.  Nor  back  the  watchful  guard 
Of  Orcus  hither  bore 
Prometheus  sly,  tho’  tempted  by  reward. 

Proud  Tantalus  he  there 

Confines,  and  all  his  race.  The  poor  man’s  friend. 
Invoked  or  not,  he’ll  hear 
And  grant  him  rest,  his  labours  at  an  end. 


ODES  OF  FIORACE. 


ODE  XIX 
To  Bacchus 


BACCHUS  I  saw,  (posterity  believe  !), 

3  Amid  the  distant  rocks  his  sonnets  teach 
And  Nymphs  and  Satyrs  goat-footed  receive, 
With  ears  attentive,  his  melodious  speech. 


Evoe  !  my  bosom  quakes  with  new-born  fear. 
Of  Bacchus  full,  wildly  dilates  my  heart  ! 
Evoe  !  great  Liber  !  spare  thy  servant,  spare. 
With  awful  thyrsus  armed  thou  dreaded  art ! 

’Tis  lawful  still  for  me  to  sound  the  strain 

Of  headstrong  Bacchanals,  and  fount  of  wine. 
Of  rivers  running  milk,  and  tell  again 
Of  honey  oozing  from  the  hollow  pine. 


And  it  is  lawful  of  thine  happy  spouse 
To  sing,  new  honour  added  to  the  stars  ; 

And  the  dread  fall  of  Pentheus’  royal  house. 

And  of  Lycurgus’  death,  proud  King  of  Thrace. 


1^  ^  W  S/ S/ N/ V 


Si/ > 


90 


BOOK  II. 


Thou  dost  the  streams,  thou  the  barbarian  main 
Control.  Thou,  moist  with  wine,  on  distant  spot 
The  tresses  of  thy  priestess  dost  restrain. 

Unhurt,  of  vipers  in  a  binding  knot. 

Thou,  when  the  impious  band  of  Titans  vast 
The  kingdom  of  thy  Father  dared  to  storm 
Thro’  lofty  sky,  huge  Rhoetus  backward  cast, 

With  claws  and  horrid  jaw  in  lion  form. 

Tho’  said  to  be  more  fitted  for  the  dance, 

For  merriment  or  play,  but  not  for  war 
Considered  meet  ;  yet,  when  there  came  the  chance. 
Of  peace  and  war  thou  wast  the  arbiter. 

When  Cerberus  saw  thee  with  golden  horn 
Adorned,  with  drooping  tail  he  thee  did  greet. 
And  with  his  triple  head,  at  thy  return. 

He  tamely  fawned  upon  thy  legs  and  feet. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XX. 

To  Maecenas 


N  common  or  on  feeble  wing, 

A  bard  transformed,  Ell  not  be  borne 
Thro’  liquid  aether  ;  all  too  long 
On  earth  I  stay  ;  above  their  scorn 


I’ll  cities  leave.  I  shall  not  die 
Tho’  born  of  poor  plebeian  blood. 
Whom  thou,  Maecenas,  call’st  “  Belov’d,” 
I’ll  ne’er  be  bound  by  Stygian  flood. 


Now,  even  now,,  the  scaly  skin 

Forms  on  my  ankles  ;  change  I  now 
To  a  white  bird  above  ;  on  hands 
And  shoulders  downy  feathers  grow. 

Now  a  melodious  bird,  more  swift 
Than  Icarus  Daedalean  soar, 
Gaetulian  Syrtes  I  shall  see, 

Wild  Bosphorus  and  Polar  shore. 


92 


^  N-' Saf' W  S 


BOOK  tl. 


93 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


BOOK  III 


ODE  L 


HATE  and  drive  from  me  the  crowd  profane 
Attend  in  silence  !  I,  the  sacred  bard 
Of  Muses,  sing  to  maids  and  youths  a  strain 
By  them  before  unheard. 

O’er  their  own  peoples  dreaded  tyrants  reign  ; 

O’er  Kings  themselves  the  empire  is  of  God  ; 
He,  famed  for  triumph  o’er  the  giant  train. 

All  tremble  at  his  nod. 


One  man  more  widely  trees  in  order  trim 
Than  other  plants.  This  one  on  birth  relies 
As  suitor  in  the  Field.  That  one  with  him 
In  fame  and  morals  vies. 

His  num’rous  clients  will  one  man  return. 

Fate,  by  impartial  law,  allots  or  fame 
Or  infamy  ;  but  the  capacious  urn 
Produces  ev’ry  name. 


94 


i 


BOOK  III. 


Sicilian  feasts  cannot  sweet  relish  bring 

To  that  man  o’er  whose  impious  neck  the  blade 

Unsheath’d  is  hung  ;  no  song  that  birds  can  sing, 

Nor  harp’s  melodious  aid, 

Can  give  him  sleep.  Sweet  sleep  the  humble  cot 
Of  husbandman  does  not  disdain,  nor  strand 

Which  shade  affords,  nor  Tempe’s  lovely  spot. 

By  gentle  Zephyrs  fann’d. 

The  stormy  sea  brings  no  solicitude 
To  him  who  is  contented  with  enough  ; 

Arcturus  setting,  nor  the  rising  Kid, 

Bringing  the  tempests  rough. 

Nor  do  his  vineyards  buffeted  by  hail  ; 

Nor  unproductive  soil  ;  now  at  the  rain 

And  now  at  scorching  stars  the  tree  may  rail. 

Of  winters  fierce  complain. 

The  fishes  feel  the  very  sea  affords 

Less  space  from  piers  which  in  the  deep  are  thrown; 

Here  many  builders  with  their  slaves,  and  lords. 

Disdaining  land,  cast  stone. 

But  Fear  and  Conscience  by  the  self-same  way 
Ascend  as  does  the  lord.  Black  care  will  not 

The  brazen  trireme  leave  ;  and  still  will  she 

Behind  the  horseman  sit. 


95 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Since  neither  Phrygian  stone  can  her  retard, 
Nor  purple  garb  more  lustrous  than  a  star, 
Nor  the  Falernian  wine,  nor  costly  nard 
The  Persian  produce  rare. 

With  envied  columns  and  in  newest  style. 
Why  should  I  seek  to  build  a  loft)'  dome  ? 
Why  should  I  wish  to  change  my  Sabine  vale 
l"or  riches  cumbersome  ? 


BOOK  in. 


ODE  II. 


W  ET  hardy  youth  together  learn 
yi  /  Sharp  pinch  of  active  war  to  bear 
In  patience.  Let  the  horseman  stern 
Fierce  Parthians  harass  with  his  spear. 


In  open  air  and  daring  raid 

His  life  be  spent.  From  hostile  keep 
Beholding  him,  may  wife  and  maid 
Adult,  of  warring  tyrant  weep. 

Alas  !  let  not  the  royal  mate, 

Unskill’d  in  arms,  provoke  by  touch 
The  lion  fierce,  whose  bloody  hate 

Thro’  midst  of  slaughter  swift  will  rush. 

Oh  !  sweet  and  glorious  ’tis  to  die 

For  native  land  !  The  coward.  Death 
Pursues  ;  nor  does  he  spare  the  thigh. 

Nor  trembling  back  of  peaceful  youth. 


Valour,  disdaining  craven  flight, 

With  unstained  honours  shines,  nor  lays 
Aside,  nor  takes  the  signs  of  might. 

At  airy  will  of  populace. 


OI)?:S  OF  HORACl 


I 


Valour,  to  those  heaven  opening  I 

Who  deathless  are,  by  dang’rous  path  | 

Pursues  her  way  ;  with  flying  wing  i 

Spurns  vulgar  crowds  and  humid  earth.  > 

So  also  is  there  sure  reward  i 

To  faithful  silence.  I  refuse 
The  man  who  rites  of  Ceres  dread  >  < 

Dares  to  divulge,  my  house  to  use,  | 

Or  in  same  fragile  boat  to  sail. 

Neglected  God  may  guiltless  join  > 

With  bad.  Seldom  doth  Justice  fail,  j 

Tho’  lame,  to  punish  wicked  men.  | 

) 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  III. 


WOR  senseless  rage  of  clam’ring  crowd, 

Nor  threat’ning  glance  of  tyrant  proud, 
Can  shake  the  man  whose  constant  mind 
Is  fixed  of  purpose  ;  nor  South  wind. 


Fierce  lord  of  restless  Hadria’s  strand 
Of  thund’ring  Jove,  nor  mighty  hand. 
Should  earth  itself  in  fragments  fall. 
The  wreck  would  strike  a  fearless  soul. 


Pollux  and  wand’ring  Hercules 
Endowed  with  this  attribute  seize 
The  starry  keep  ;  with  rosy  lips 
With  them  Augustus  nectar  sips. 


By  this  deserving,  Bacchus  sire, 

Thou  did  st  control  the  tigers  dire. 
Dragging  with  tameless  neck  thy  yoke. 
From  Acheron  Quirinus  broke 


99 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


On  steeds  of  Mars,  when  pleasing  words 
Spake  Juno  to  consulting  Gods  : — 

“  Troy  !  Troy  !  a  fatal  judge  and  lewd 
“  And  foreign  woman  thee  have  strewed 

“  In  dust.  To  Pallas  chaste  and  me 
“  Thy  race  and  leader  false  shall  be 
“  Condemned,  since  the  reward  agreed 
“  Laomedon  to  Gods  denied. 

“  For  neither  did  the  guest  profane 
“  Of  the  Laconian  harlot  shine  ; 

“  Nor  perjured  house  of  Priam  stayed 
“  The  warlike  Greeks  by  Hector’s  aid. 

“  Lengthened  by  our  sad  discord,  wars 
“  Are  ended  now.  Now  I  to  Mars 
“  My  cruel  rage  will  back  return  ; 

“  And  hated  grandson  who  was  born 

“  Of  Trojan  priestess.  I’ll  permit 
“  That  he  should  enter  shining  seat, 

“  And  nectar  quaff,  and  added  be 
“To  peaceful  ranks  of  deity. 

“  So  long  as  mighty  seas  remain 
“  ’Twixt  Rome  and  Ilion,  let  them  reign, 

“  The  exiles  blest  in  other  clime. 

“  Whilst  cattle  over  Priam’s  tomb. 


lOO 


BOOK  Iti. 


“  And  that  of  Paris  sport,  and  while 
“  Wild  beasts  unchased  their  young  conceal  ; 

Still  may  the  glittering  Capitol 
“  Remain,  and  haughty  Romans  rule 

O’er  conquered  Medes.  Her  dreaded  name 
“  May  Rome  extend  to  furthest  clime, 

“  Where  Europe  middle  sea  divides 
“  PAom  Afric’;  and  where  swoll’n  tides 

“  Of  Nilus  roll.  The  gold  unseen 
“  ’Tis  braver  to  despise,  and  deem 
“  It  better  hid  in  earth,  than  bring 
“  It  for  man’s  use,  each  sacred  thing 

“  With  right  hand  snatching.  Whate’er  end 
“  Of  earth  withstands,  may  she  contend 
“  In  arms,  impelled  that  land  to  see 
“  Where  fires  and  stormy  rains  may  be. 

“  But  by  this  right  I  tell  their  fate 
“  To  warlike  Romans  ;  not  too  great, 

“  Nor  too  confiding,  they  should  joy 
“  To  build  the  roofs  of  hated  Troy. 

The  fortunes  of  that  Troy  new-born 
“  Should,  under  auspices  forlorn, 

“  Repeated  be.  I,  first  in  strife, 

“  Of  Jove  the  sister  and  the  wife. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

“  If  thrice  should  rise  a  brazen  wall, 

“  Phoebus  its  founder,  thrice  should  fall 
“  By  Greeks  o’erthrown.  P'or  husband  thrice 
“  And  children  captive  woman  sighs.” — 

This  ill  befits  the  merry  lyre  ! 

Oh  wilful  Muse  !  where  dost  aspire  ? 

Cease  language  of  the  Gods  to  use. 

And  great  things  dwarf  by  feeble  verse  ! 


I 


\ 

] 


102 


BOOK  m. 


ODE  IV. 

1^0  Calliope. 


4j\UEEN  CALLIOPE,  from  heaven  descend, 
And  haste  a  long-drawn  strain  to  sing 
To  lute,  with  thy  clear  voice  to  blend, 

Or,  an  thou  wilt,  with  Phoebus’  string. 

Hear  ye  ?  Or  does  a  rapture  sweet 
Deceive  ?  I  seem  to  hear  and  stray 
Thro’  sacred  groves,  where  streamlets  fleet 
And  gentle  breezes  ever  play  ! 

Once,  when  a  boy,  fatigued  with  sport 
Asleep,  with  fresh  leaves  ring-doves  wise 
To  hide  me  on  high  Vultur  sought. 

Where  nurse  Apulia’s  threshold  lies. 

Wondrous  it  seemed  to  all  who  dwell 
In  Acherontia’s  lofty  nest. 

In  Bantia’s  woods,  and  in  the  vale 
Of  low  Ferentum  richly  blest  ; 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


That  I  could  sleep  with  body  safe 
.  From  bears  and  from  the  vipers  dread. 
Dear  to  the  Gods,  an  infant  brave, 

By  sacred  bays  and  myrtle  hid. 

Yours,  oh  Camenae,  I  am  yours. 

Or  raised  to  Sabine  mountain  top. 

Or  pleased  where  cool  Praencste  soars. 
With  Baiae’s  waves,  or  Tibur’s  slope. 

PTiend  to  your  fountains  and  your  dance. 
Nor  routed  host  at  Philippi, 

Nor  tree  accurst,  nor  sad  mischance 
Of  Palinurus,  injured  me. 

If  ye  be  with  me,  cheerfully 

Sailing',  mad  Bosphorus  Pll  explore, 
And  as  a  traveller  I’ll  see 

The  burning  sands  of  Syria’s  shore. 

Britons,  to  strangers  fierce.  I’ll  view  ; 

And  Concani  who  love  the  blood 
Of  hoi'se  ;  quiver’d  Geloni  too 

Unhurt  I’ll  see,  and  Scythian  flood. 

Ye  cherished  in  Pierian  cave 

Great  Caesar,  seeking  war  to  end, 
When  weai'y  cohorts  late  he  gave 

Command  their  own  towns  to  defend. 


^  y^  yNy>  ys  y<. 


BOOK  Ill. 

Ye,  sacred  ones,  give  counsel  mild 
And  joy  to  give  it.  Well  we  know 

How  he  who  hurled  down  Titans  wild, 

A  monstrous  crew,  with  crashing  blow  ; 

How  he  still  earth  and  stormy  sea, 

And  cities,  and  the  kingdoms  grim. 

Alone  rules  with  impartial  sway  ; 

How  Gods  and  mortals  bend  to  him. 

Fierce  youth,  confiding  in  their  might, 

And  brothers  who  to  heap  up  sought 

Pelion  on  dark  Olympus’  height, 

To  Jove  himself  great  terror  brought. 

What  could  Mimas,  or  Typhoeus, 

Or  what  Forphyrion’s  threat’ning  height. 

What  Rhoetus,  or  Enceladus, 

With  trees  uprooted  fierce  to  fight. 

Rushing  ’gainst  Pallas’  sounding  shield. 
Avail  ?  Here  eager  Vulcan  stood  ; 

Wife  Juno  there  !  He  who  doth  wield 
The  bow  upon  his  shoulder  broad, 

Phoebus,  who  in  Castalian  dew 

Laves  his  loose  locks,  who  Lycia’s  wood 

Holds,  and  his  natal  forest  too, 

Of  Patara  and  Delos  God. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Force,  without  wisdom,  by  its  weight 

Must  fall.  The  Gods,  who  raise  on  high 
Well  governed  Force,  the  same  Force  hate, 
Intent  on  all  impiety. 

Let  hundred-handed  Gyas  be 

The  witness  of  my  truth,  and  base 
Orion,  Dian’s  chastity 

Who  tempts,  her  virgin  arrow  slays. 

The  earth,  on  her  own  monsters  spread, 
Grieves  and  laments  her  offspring  sent 
By  thunderbolt  to  Orcus  dread  ; 

Nor  by  swift  fire  is  Etna  burnt ; 

Nor  lustful  Tityus’  liver  quits 

The  bird  as  punishment  assigned 
For  his  foul  sin  ;  three  hundred  knots 
Pirithous  the  amorous  bind. 


BOOK  HI. 


ODE  V. 


'^ITE  aye  believe  that  in  the  courts  of  heaven 
y'f  Reigns  thund’ring  Jove.  Now  is  Augustus  given, 
A  present  God,  who  to  his  rule  doth  add 
The  distant  Briton  and  the  Persian  dread. 

Have  Crassus’  soldiers  lived  with  barb’rous  mates 
As  husbands  base?  Oh  Senate  !  And  oh  P'ates 
Averse  !  Have  Marsian  and  Apulian  aged, 

Whilst  for  unfriendly  fathers  war  they  waged 

Under  the  Median  King,  forgetful  grown 
Of  sacred  shields,  and  name,  and  manly  gown, 

And  of  eternal  Vesta,  this  our  home 
PTom  danger  free  and  our  dear  city  Rome  ? 

This  dreaded  Regulus’  far-seeing  mind, 

His  country  scorning  by  base  terms  to  bind  ; 

Who  saw  that  such  example  sure  would  be 
To  bring  destruction  on  posterity, 

If  captive  youth  should  not  have  slaughtered  been 
Unpitied.  Thus  did  he  speak  : — “  I  have  seen 
“  Our  captured  standards  Punic  shrines  display, 

“  And  from  our  soldiers  weapons  snatch’d  away 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

“  Without  resistance.  I  have  seen  the  hands 
“  Of  citizens  behind  free  backs  in  bands  ; 

“  And  gates  unclosed,  and  fields  retilled,  which  were 
“  Once  quite  depopulated  by  our  war. 

“  Think  ye  the  soldier  ransomed  by  your  dross 
“  Returns  more  brave?  To  shame  ye  but  add  loss  ! 

“  Think  ye  the  wool  which  once  hath  borne  the  stain 
“  Of  dye,  its  pristine  colour  can  regain  ? 

“  Nor  does  true  valour,  conquered  by  the  sword, 

“  By  means  inferior  care  to  be  restored. 

“  If  timid  hart,  which  hath  escaped  by  flight 
“  From  thick-wrought  meshes,  will  e’er  turn  to  fight, 

“  Then  he’ll  be  brave  who  trusts  perfidious  foe, 

“  And  in  another  war  will  overthrow 
“  The  Punic  race,  who  thongs  around  his  arms 
“  Bound  fast  hath  tamely  felt, — whom  death  alarms  ! 

“  The  man  who  thus  by  any  means  will  care 
“  His  life  to  save,  but  mingles  peace  with  war  ! 

“  Oh  shame  !  Oh  mighty  Carthage,  finding  fame 
“  In  ruined  Italy’s  eternal  shame  !  ” 

’Tis  said  this  man  denied  himself  the  bliss 
Of  wife’s  chaste  kiss  and  little  ones’  caress. 

As  dead  to  civic  rights  ;  and  sternly  turned 
His  manly  countenance  upon  the  ground 


HOOK  III. 


Till  he,  their  counsellor,  had  power  to  bind, 

By  his  advice,  the  Senate’s  wav’ring  mind, 

His  own  unchang’d.  Then  from  his  friends  distressed. 
Illustrious  Exile  !  to  his  doom  he  pressed. 


And  tho’  he  knew  what  the  barbarian  grim 
Of  horrid  torture  had  prepared  for  him, 

Yet  still  he  thrust  opposing  friends  away, 
And  crowds  that  strove  departure  to  delay  ; 

As  tho’,  the  tedious  work  of  clients  done, 
Their  suit  determined,  he  had  merely  gone 
To  take  his  leisure  in  Venafrian  field. 

Or  fair  Tarentum,  once  by  Spartans  held. 


109 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  VI. 


To  THE  Romans. 

5 OMAN  !  tho’  guiltless,  thou  must  expiate 
Illy  fathers’  crimes,  until  thou  shalt  restore 

The  temples,  and  the  falling  shrines  of  Gods, 

And  statues  with  vile  smoke  all  blackened  o’er. 

Thou  rulest  by  obedience  to  the  Gods, 

To  this  each  undertaking  sure  apply 

And  every  end.  Neglected  Gods  have  given 
Misfortunes  great  to  mourning  Italy. 

Twice  have  Monaeses  and  the  hardy  bands 
Of  Pacorus  our  inauspicious  charge 

Repelled,  and  proudly  added  Roman  spoils. 

Their  former  scanty  honours  to  enlarge. 

Dacian  and  African  have  nigh  destroyed 
Our  city,  in  seditious  brawls  engaged  ; 

One  pow’rful  with  his  fleet,  with  missile  dart 
The  other  better,  ’gainst  us  war  hath  waged. 


T  lO 


vs 


BOOK  III. 


Fruitful  in  crime,  the  age  did  first  corrupt 

The  marriage  bond,  the  race,  and  e’en  the  home 
From  this  bad  source  derived,  defeat  has  flowed 
O’er  all  the  country  and  the  race  of  Rome. 


The  grown-up  maiden  to  be  taught  delights 
Ionic  dances,  and  in  crafty  arts 
Is  well  instructed  ;  and  forbidden  loves 
From  tender  infancy  she  meditates. 


Soon  younger  lovers  she  will  try  to  find. 

Her  husband  in  his  cups,  nor  doth  she  care 
On  whom  forbidden  favours  she  bestows 

With  careless  ease,  when  the  lights  disappear. 

But  when  she’s  summoned  openly  she  comes. 
Too  oft  indeed  before  her  husband’s  face. 

If  agent  vile,  or  Spanish  captain  call. 

The  wealthy  purchaser  of  her  disgrace  ! 


A  youth  not  sprung  from  parents  such  as  these 
Dyed  mighty  ocean  with  the  Punic  blood, 

And  Pyrrhus  slaughtered,  and  Antiochus 
The  Great,  and  hated  Hannibal  withstood. 

But  manly  offspring  of  a  rustic  race 

Of  warriors,  taught  with  Sabine  spades  the  land 
To  dig,  and^aught  to  cut  and  carry  wood 
At  an  unyielding  mother’s  stern  command  ; 


Ill 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Nor  then  to  cease,  till  shadows  of  the  hills 
By  setting  sun  were  lengthened,  and  again 
With  his  departing  car  came  time  of  rest, 

And  weary  oxen  from  the  yokes  were  ta’en. 

Oh  !  what  does  not  this  age  corrupt  impair  ? 

Our  fathers’  age,  than  their  own  fathers’  worse. 
Hath  us  begot,  a  race  more  wicked  still. 

Yet  soon  a  viler  offspring  to  produce  ! 


1 1  2 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  VII. 


To  Asterie. 

JSTERIE,  why  for  Gyges  dost  thou  mourn, 
L  That  youth  of  constant  faith,  whom  fair 
West  winds  to  thee  will  early  spring  return, 
Made  happy  with  Bithynian  ware  ? 

He,  driven  to  Oricum  by  Southern  gales 
Under  the  Goat’s  tempestuous  star, 

Deprived  of  sleep,  thro’  frosty  nights  bewails 
Thine  absence  with  the  constant  tear. 

Altho’  his  anxious  hostess’  agent  sly 
Should  by  a  thousand  modes  deceive. 
Pretending  that  for  him  doth  Chloe  sigh. 

With  hotter  fires  than  thine  doth  grieve. 

He  tells  him  how  once  a  woman  scheming 
Incited  Proetus  death  to  haste. 

Too  credulous,  her  false  charge  believing. 

To  young  Bellerophon  the  chaste. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


He  tells  how  Peleus  too  once  nearly  fell 
To  Tartarus  when,  chaste,  he  fled 

Magnessian  Hippolyte  ;  and,  base,  will  tell 
Tales  which  to  sinfulness  would  lead. 

In  vain  !  For  he,  than  the  Icarian  cliffs 
More  deaf,  untouched  the  words  will  hear. 

But  lest  Enipeus,  who  too  near  thee  lives. 
Should  please  thee  more  than  right,  beware ! 

Altho’  no  other,  skilful  like  to  him. 

In  Campus  Martius  may  be  seen 

To  guide  a  steed  ;  nor  is  there  one  can  swim 
So  swiftly  down  the  Tuscan  stream. 

To  ope  thine  house  at  night’s  approach  refrain. 
Nor  do  thou  on  the  street  look  down 

At  pipe’s  shrill  sound,  but  obdurate  remain, 
Altho’  he  oft  deplores  thy  frown. 


BOOK  HI. 


ODE  VIII. 

T  ()  Maecenas. 


OH  thou,  who  language  of  each  tongue  dost  know, 
Thou  art  surprised  what  I,  unmarried,  do 
In  March’s  Kalends.  What  do  flowers  show. 

And  censer  incense  bearing, 

\ 

And  coal  on  living  sod  ?  I  did  devote 
Rich  feasts  to  Bacchus  and  a  snow-white  goat ; 

I,  on  whose  head  once  death  was  nearly  brought 

By  tree  upon  me  falling. 

This  day,  held  sacred  each  returning  year, 

The  pitch-held  cork  shall  take  from  out  the  jar 
Which  I,  when  Tullus  consul,  did  prepare. 

In  smoke  hung  up  for  rip’ning. 

Maecenas,  to  the  safety  of  thy  friend, 

A  hundred  cups  imbibe  ;  by  bright  lamps  spend 
The  night  till  morning  breaks.  Let  clamour  end, 

Be  absent  angry  raging. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Thy  civil  cares  for  Rome  now  put  away, 

The  bands  of  Dacian  Cotiso  we  slay, 

In  his  own  land  the  hated  Mede  will  stay. 

Fierce  civil  war  distracting. 

Our  ancient  foes  of  Spain,  the  Cantabri, 

Are  now  subdued,  by  recent  victory 
Enchain’d.  The  Scythians,  unbent  bows  put  by. 
To  yield  their  lands  are  thinking. 

Careless  of  state  in  private  moments,  spare 
For  peoples’  sufferings  too  much  to  care. 

The  gifts  of  this  bright  day  now  joyous  wear, 
Affairs  of  statecraft  leaving. 


^  ^  ^  y*.  y 


1 1 6 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  IX. 

An  Ode"  in  Responses. 


Horace. — ^O  long  as  I  was  dear  to  thee, 

Nor  any  youth  preferred  to  me 
Round  thy  white  neck  his  arms  could  fling, 
I  lived  more  blest  than  Persian  king ! 


Lydia. — Whilst  no  one  else  did  thee  inflame. 

Nor,  after  Chloe,  Lydia  came, 

Lydia  of  high  account  I  found. 

Than  Roman  Ilia  more  renowned  ! 

Horace. — Now  Thracian  Chloe  o’er  me  reigns, 

Sweet  measures  taught,  and  skilled  in  strains. 
For  whom  to  die  I’m  not  afraid. 

If  Fates  spare  her,  surviving  maid  ! 

Lydia. — Me  Thurian  Ornytus’  the  son, 

Calais,  mutual  flame  doth  burn. 

For  whom  twice  I  could  bear  to  die. 

If  Fates  spare  him,  surviving  boy  ! 


117 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Hoface. — What  !  If  our  former  love  revives 
In  brazen  yoke  our  sundered  lives  ? 

If  gold-haired  Chloe  charms  no  more, 

To  jilted  Lydia  opes  the  door? 

Lydia. — Tho’  he  more  beauteous  than  a  star, 

Thou  light  as  cork,  and  angrier  far 

Than  stormy  Hadria,  gladly  I 

With  thee  would  live,  with  thee  would  die 


ii8 


BOOK  Hi. 


ODE  X. 

To  L  Y  c  E. 

/ 

^  YCE,  tho’  wedded  to  a  barb’rous  mate 

JL/  And  drinking  distant  Don,  thou  would’st  my  fate 

Deplore,  stretch’d  at  thy  cruel  door  to  weep. 

Exposed  to  North  winds  which  there  ever  sweep. 

Dost  thou  not  hear  the  creaking  of  thy  door. 

And  how  the  wood  around  thy  house  doth  roar  ? 

Dost  thou  not  mark  how  wintry  sky  doth  throw 
Its  icy  brightness  o’er  the  fallen  snow  ? 

Hateful  to  love,  now  cease  that  pride  to  feel ! 

Think  how  the  rope  may  slip  upon  the  wheel 
And  backward  run.  Thy  Tyrrhene  sire  not  thee 
Begot  to  love  deaf  as  Penelope. 

Tho’  neither  gifts,  nor  prayers,  nor  pallid  hue 
Of  pining  lovers,  nor  thy  spouse  untrue 
With  chatt’ring  wanton,  can  effective  prove. 

Oh  cruel  one  !  to  bend  thy  heart  to  love. 

Yet  spare  thy  suppliants,  tho’  more  hard  than  oak 
And  not  more  gentle  than  the  Moorish  snake  ! 

This  side  of  mine  will  not  aye  bear  the  pains 
Of  thy  hard  threshold  and  the  heav’nly  rains. 


1 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XL 

To  Mercury. 


MERCURY  !  thou  teaching  him  his  art, 
Amphion  docile  could  by  song  impart 
Motion  to  rocks  ;  thro’  thee  my  seven-string’d  lyre 
Sweet  pleasure  can  inspire  : 

Nor  tuneful  once,  nor  pleasing,  now  its  strains 
At  rich  men’s  tables  and  in  sacred  fanes 
Are  welcome.  Teach  me  songs  which  Lyde  fair 
Now  obdurate,  will  hear. 

Who,  frisking  like  a  three-years’  filly,  plays 
In  the  wide  fields,  nor  to  be  touched  she  stays. 
Without  experience  of  sweet  marriage  vows. 
Unripe  for  loving  spouse. 

Thou  tigers  and  attendant  woods  can’st  lead 
And  rapid  streams  delay.  Cerberus,  guard 
Immense  of  the  infernal  halls,  hath  bent 

To  thy  sweet  blandishment  ; 


120 


BOOK  III. 

Tho’  furiously  a  hundred  serpents  twine 
About  his  guarded  heads,  and  tho’  combine 
A  horrid  stench  about  his  triple  jaws, 

And  bloody  matter  flows. 

Nay,  e’en  Ixion  and  e’en  Tityus  smile, 

Altho’  with  rueful  face.  The  tub  awhile 

Stands  dry,  whilst  Danaus’  daughters  thou  dost  ease 

With  song  aye  sure  to  please. 

The  virgins’  crime  and  well-known  punishment 
Let  Lyde  hear  ;  and  of  the  pitcher  spent 
Of  water  ever  running  through,  and  state 

The  everlasting  fate 

Which  e’en  their  wickedness  awaits  in  death. 
Impious  !  (for  when  was  greater  breach  of  faith  ?) 
Impious  !  They  seized  the  cruel  sword  with  joy. 

Their  husbands  to  destroy. 

One  of  the  many,  splendidly  untrue 
To  her  false  parent,  then  herself  did  show 
Worthy  the  nuptial  torch,  a  virgin  sage. 

Renowned  in  ev’ry  age  : 

Who  to  her  youthful  husband  cried  : — “  Arise  ! 

“  Arise  !  lest  sleep  eternal  close  thine  eyes, 

“  Given  whence  thou  fearest  not  !  Escape  my  sire 

“  And  wicked  sisters’  ire  ; 


I2I 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


“  Who,  lion-like,  the  calves  in  pieces  tear 
“  On  which,  alas  !  they  fall.  I,  gentler  far 
“  Than  they,  will  from  the  deadly  blow  refrain. 


“  Nor  in  my  couch  detain. 


“  Let  me  my  father’s  cruel  fetters  wear, 

“  Because  in  mercy  my  poor  spouse  I  spare, 

“  To  far  Numidian  plains  across  the  sea 

In  ship  let  him  send  me. 

“  Go,  where  thy  feet  and  friendly  breezes  bear, 
Whilst  night  and  love  protect  ;  swift  flight  prepare 
“  With  prosp’rous  omen  ;  but  carve  on  my  tomb 


“  The  sad  tale  of  my  doom.” 


I  22 


wm 


BOOK  •  III. 


ODE  XII. 

/ 

To  Neobule 


FNHAPPY  are  the  maids  who  neither  can  to  love 
k-  give  rein, 

Nor  drown  sad  cares  with  wine,  but  still  in  constant 
fear  remain 

Of  uncle’s  tongue  severe. 

Oh  Neobule,  the  winged  boy  of  Love  shall  take  from 
thee 

Distaff,  and  mesh,  and  study  of  hard  Greek  ;  and  so 
will  he, 

Hebrus  of  Lipara  ; 

Beauteous,  when  his  oiled  shoulders  he  hath  laved  in 
Tiber’s  stream, 

A  horseman  better  than  Bellerophon  ;  in  fight 
supreme  ; 

Nor  slow  of  foot  to  race. 


Skilful  the  same  at  frightened  herd  of  flying  stags  the 
spear 

To  hurl  in  open  plain  ;  and  swift  the  wild  boar  lurking 
there 

From  thicket  dense  to  chase. 


123 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIII. 

To  THE  BaNDUSIAN  SPRING. 


ANDUSIAN  FONT,  as  crystal  bright, 


m3  Of  wine  and  flowers  deserving  quite. 
To  thee  to-morrow  shall  be  borne 
A  kid,  whose  newly-sprouted  horn 

In  love  ne’er  destined  to  display. 

Nor  join  in  battle’s  stern  array  ; 

The  offspring  of  the  sportive  team 
With  crimson  gore  shall  dye  thy  stream. 

The  blazing  Dog-Star’s  sultry  hour 
Ne’er  o’er  thine  icy  pool  shall  lour, 

But  wearied  bulls  and  wand’ring  sheep 
Shall  in  thy  grateful  coolness  steep. 

Oh  !  Fountain  of  the  noblest  name, 

My  song  shall  spread  thy  worthy  fame  ; 
From  hollow  rocks,  the  oak  below. 

Thy  babbling  waters  swiftly  flow. 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  XIV. 

On  the  Return  of  Augustus  from  Spain. 


GAESAR,  oh  Romans  !  who,  ye  lately  thought, 
Like  Hercules,  the  death-won  laurel  sought. 
Now  to  his  household  Gods  returns  once  more, 

Victor  from  Spanish  shore. 

Now  let  the  Wife  come  forth  who  loves  her  spouse 
And  pay  to  just  divinities  her  vows  ; 

Now  let  the  Sister  of  our  chief  renowned 

Come  forth,  her  forehead  bound 

With  suppliant  fillet,  and  so  mothers  dear 
Of  daughters,  and  of  sons  late  saved  in  war. 

By  you,  oh  youths  and  maids  too  young  to  wed. 

Let  no  ill  words  be  said. 

This,  which  in  truth  is  a  well-omened  day 
To  me,  all  my  black  care  shall  take  away. 

No  force  I  fear,  nor  death  by  ruthless  hand. 

Whilst  Caesar  rules  the  land. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Perfumes,  oh  slave,  and  wreaths  haste  to  prepare, 
And  wine  coeval  with  the  Marsian  war. 

If  any  vessel  roving  Spartacus 

Hath  left  indeed  to  us. 

Tell  bright  Neaera  that  she  lose  no  time 
Her  shining  tresses  in  a  knot  to  twine  ; 

But  if  the  crusty  porter  cause  delay. 

Then  quickly  come  away. 

White  hairs  bring  calm  to  minds  which  once  were 
To  pick  a  quarrel,  or  for  heady  strife  ; 

In  Plancus’  consulship,  when  hot  in  youth. 

I’d  not  bear  this,  forsooth  ! 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  XV. 

To  Chloris. 


IFE  of  poor  Ibycus,  whose  death  is  nigh, 
Now  cease  thy  wickedness  and  actions  sly, 
Amid  young  girls  now  cease  to  tread, 
Amid  bright  stars  a  cloud  to  spread. 

If  aught  fair  Pholoe  enough  becomes. 

It  does  not  follow  that  it  thee  beseems  ; 

Oh  Chloris  !  with  a  better  right 
Thy  daughter  may  perchance  invite 

Herself  to  young  men’s  homes.  Like  Thyiad  rash 
To  madness  stirr’d  by  beaten  cymbals’  clash. 

The  love  of  Nothus  drives  her  out. 
Like  sportive  kid  to  frisk  about. 

Wools  shorn  near  famed  Luceria  thee  become, 

A  woman  old  ;  not  lutes,  nor  blushing  bloom 

Of  roses  bright,  nor  casks  of  wine. 
Which  thou  to  very  dregs  dost  drain. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XVI. 

To  Maecenas. 


STOUT  doors  of  oak  and  brazen  tower 
And  wakeful  watch-dogs’  cruel  ward, 
From  midnight  lovers  had  had  power 
Imprison’d  Danae  to  guard  ; 

Did  Jove  and  Love  not  scorn  display 
At  pale  Acrisius’  trembling  care 
Of  the  hid  virgin  ;  for  the  way, 

A  God  the  bribe,  was  safe  and  clear. 

Gold  loves  thro’  midst  of  guards  to  go. 
Thro’  rocks  to  break,  more  powerful 
Than  thunderbolt.  Destruction’s  blow 
The  Argive  augur’s  house  befel 

Thro’  lust  of  gold.  With  bribes  wide  flings 
The  “  Man  of  Macedon  ”  of  towns 
The  gates,  and  ruins  rival  kings. 

Bribes  soften  rough  sea-captains’  frowns. 


Maecenas,  thou  most  glorious  knight. 
Increasing  wealth  brings  greater  care 
And  greed  for  more.  I  fear,  with  right, 
A  too  conspicuous  head  to  rear. 


1 28 


^ 


> 


BOOK  III. 


The  more  each  one  himself  denies, 

The  more  to  him  the  Gods  will  give. 

Empty,  I  seek  the  camps  of  those 

Who  covet  naught,  and  rich  men  leave, 

A  glad  deserter  ;  nobler  lord 

Of  fortune  base  than  if  ’twere  said 

That  all  Apulian  ploughs  I  stored, 

Poor  amid  riches,  in  my  shed. 

Of  water  pure  a  stream,  and  wood 
Of  acres  few,  a  happier  lot 

Is  mine,  if  sure  my  crops  be  good, 

Than  fertile  Afric’s  proud  despot. 

Tho’  neither  doth  Calabrian  bee 
Bring  honey,  nor  in  P'ormian  vat 

Ripens  the  gen’rous  wine  for  me. 

Nor  Gallic  fields  grow  fleeces  fat. 

Yet  biting  want  I  do  not  feel. 

Nor,  if  I  wished,  would’st  thou  deny 

To  give  me  more.  Mine  income  small 
My  lessened  needs  will  well  supply. 

As  tho’  I  joined  Alyattes’  realm 

To  Thracian  plains.  To  those  whose  prayers 

Ask  much,  is  wanting  much.  With  him 
’Tis  well,  enough  whom  God’s  hand  spares. 


I 


129 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XVII. 

On  a  e  l  I  u  s  Lamia, 


ELIUS,  high-born  from  Lamus  old, 
(Since  former  Lamias,  we  are  told. 
Both  hence  were  named,  and  all  the  race 
Of  children  origin  can  trace 


From  him  their  sire  whom  records  call, 
Who  held,  as  king,  the  Formian  wall  ; 
And  Liris  gently  flowing  o’er 
The  sands  of  fair  Marica’s  shore. 


Lord  of  a  wide  domain),  a  blast 
Sent  down  to-morrow  from  the  East, 

With  leaves  the  grove  shall  strew,  with  weeds 
Marine  the  strand  ;  unless  misleads. 

Augur  of  rain,  the  ancient  crow. 

Pile  up  dry  wood  while  you  may  so  ; 

With  wine  you  shall  refresh  your  breast 
And  two-months’  pig  ; — your  slaves  shall  rest. 


HOOK  nr. 


ODE  XVIIL 
To  F  A  U  N  u  s . 


J^AUNUS,  who  lov’st  the  Nymphs  that 
.  Pass  gently  o’er  my  boundary 
And  sunny  fields  ;  propitious  be 
To  my  flocks’  little  progeny. 

If  ev’ry  year  a  tender  kid 
Is  slain,  nor  store  of  wine  forbid 
The  cup,  love’s  friend.  With  incense  rare 
The  ancient  altar  fills  the  air. 

The  flocks  rejoice  in  grassy  plain. 

When  thee  December’s  Nones  return  ; 

The  happy  village  rests  from  toil. 

And  in  the  mead  the  unyoked  bull. 

’Mid  fearless  lambs  the  wolf  is  seen. 

The  forest  scatters  wild  leaves  green. 

The  delver  joys  loath’d  earth  to  beat, 

In  triple  dance  with  nimble  feet. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIX. 

To  Telephus. 


OW  far  from  Inachus 
Doth  Codrus  come,  who  feared  not  for  his  land  to  die, 

And  race  of  Aeacus 

Thou  dost  narrate,  and  battles  fought  round  sacred  Troy. 

But  at  what  price  to  buy 

A  cask  of  Chian,  or  who’ll  warm  the  bath  with  flame. 

Who’ll  house-room  give,  or  why 
I  can’t  drive  out  Pelignian  colds,  thou  dost  not  name. 

Quickly,  my  boy,  a  glass 
Drink  to  the  rising  moon  ;  another  to  midnight ; 

One  to  Muraena  pass. 

The  augur.  In  the  bowls  three  or  nine  cups  unite. 

The  bard  inspired  who  would 
Odd-numbered  Muses  love,  asks  for  cups  three  times  three  ; 

Each  Grace,  with  sisters  nude 
Conjoined,  e’en  more  than  three  to  quaff  prohibits  me. 


HOOK  ill. 


Fearful  of  hot  dispute. 

I  love  to  rave.  Why  cease  of  Berecyntian  pipe 

The  blasts  ?  Why  doth  the  flute 
In  silence  hang  beside  the  high-suspended  harp  ? 

A  niggard  hand  I  hate  ! 

Come,  scatter  roses  !  Let  the  envious  Lycus  hear 

Our  noise  inebriate, 

And  one  for  Lycus  old  unfit,  our  neighbour  fair. 

Rhode,  for  marriage  fit. 

Loves  thee,  oh  Telephus,  whose  bushy  tresses  shine 

Fair  as  the  star  of  night. 

Gently  inflames  me  now  the  love  of  Glycera  mine. 


133 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XX. 

To  P  Y  R  R  HUS. 


PYRRHUS  !  with  what  risk  dost  thou  not  see 
^  Thou  dost  from  lioness  Gaetulian  tear 
Her  cubs  ;  the  battle  hard  thou  soon  shalt  flee, 

A  frightened  ravisher  ; 

When  she  thro’  youths’  opposing  bands  will  go, 
Nearchus  beautiful  to  find  again  ; 

A  mighty  fight,  whether  or  she  or  thou 
Secure  the  greater  gain. 

Meantime,  whilst  thou  dost  draw  swift  arrows  out, 
And  she  her  fearsome  teeth  doth  whet,  ’tis  said 
The  arbiter  of  fight  under  bare  foot. 

Hath  trampled  the  reward  ; 

And  hath  refreshed,  with  gentle  breezes’  play 

His  shoulders,  with  sweet-scented  locks  o’erspread. 
Such  one  was  Nircus,  or  he  snatch’d  away 
From  Ida’s  wat’ry  bed. 


i 


BOOK  Ill. 


ODE  XXL 

To  AN  Amphora. 


r 


H  jar  belov’d  !  thou,  born  with  me 
When  Manlius  ruled  the  state, 
Art  cause  of  grief,  or  revelry. 

Calm  sleep,  mad  love,  or  hate. 


By  whatsoever  name  thou  dost 
The  Massic  choice  preserve. 

For  day  auspicious  meet,  thou  must 
Rich  wine  Corvinus  give. 

Not  he,  tho’  of  Socratic  mood. 

Will,  churlish,  thee  refuse  ; 

’Tis  said  e’en  ancient  Cato  would 
Virtue  with  wine  infuse. 


Gently  thou  dost  all  grief  remove 
From  each  o’erburdened  mind  ; 

Thou  dost  the  cares  of  wise  men  soothe. 
Their  fears  with  merry  wine. 


135 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


To  anxious  minds  back  thou  dost  bring 
Hope,  strength,  and  lengthened  hours 
With  thee  man  fears  nor  wrath  of  king. 
Nor  military  powers. 

Oh  !  Bacchus,  thee  and  Venus  gay 
Prolong  the  lamps  of  night. 

And  ungirt  Graces,  till  the  day 
The  stars  shall  put  to  flight. 


HOOK  ill. 


ODE  XXII. 
To  Diana. 


^CTIRGIN  !  of  hills  and  forests  guardian, 

F  Oh  tri-formed  Goddess  !  who,  when  thrice  iin 
Dost  hear  young  matrons  in  maternal  pain, 

And  from  them  death  dost  ward  ! 


The  pine  my  villa  which  o’ershades  be  thine, 
On  which,  each  year  completed,  I  bestow 
Most  joyfully  the  offered  blood  of  swine. 

Planning  his  side-long  blow. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXIIL 

/ 

To  Phidyle. 


|H  rustic  Phidyle  !  if  thou  dost  raise 

Thy  lifted  hands  to  heav’n  at  first  moon-shine, 

With  incense  to  the  Lares  givest  praise, 

With  this  year’s  fruit  and  blood  of  greedy  swine  ; 

The  fruitful  vine  nor  South-west  wind  shall  harm 
With  noxious  blast,  nor  corn  the  sterile  blight  ; 

Nor  shall  bad  seasons  thy  sweet  flocks  alarm. 

When  comes  fruit-bearing  autumn  in  its  flight. 

P^or  the  devoted  victim  which  now  feeds 
On  snowy  Algidus  ’mid  holm  and  oak. 

Or  waxes  fat  in  the  Albanian  meads. 

Shall  stain  with  rushing  life-blood  from  its  neck 

The  axes  of  the  priests.  It  fits  not  thee 

With  mighty  slaughter  of  the  two-years’  sheep. 

The  little  Gods  t’  appease  with  rosemary, 

And  fragile  myrtle  on  their  brows  to  heap. 


If  guiltless  hand  be  on  the  altar  laid, 

A  costly  offering  will  not  mollify 
More  sweetly  than  the  votive  barley’s  aid 
Or  glistening  salt,  Penates  turned  away. 


✓V  ^ 


BOOK  111. 

ODE  XXIV. 

Against  the  Covetous. 


ORE  wealthy  than  Arabia’s  treasures  vast 
Or  India’s  riches,  now  to  thee 
It  is  permitted  palaces  to  cast 
In  Tyrrhene  and  Apulian  sea. 

Yet  if  her  adamantine  hooks  grim  Fate 
To  loftiest  roofs  shall  fix,  from  dread 
Thy  trembling  soul  thou  shalt  not  extricate, 

Nor  from  the  snares  of  Death  thine  head. 

The  country-roving  Scythians  better  learn 
Whose  carts,  as  is  their  custom,  draw 
Their  vagrant  houses  ;  and  the  Getae  stern, 

For  whom  unmeasured  acres  grow 


Free  fruits  and  corn  :  nor  longer  in  one  spot 
Than  one  year  will  they  plough,  then  he 
Who  hath  performed  his  task,  by  equal  lot. 

Next  year  a  substitute  shall  see. 

There  guileless  wife,  lost  their  own  mother  dear. 
Her  step-sons  gently  rules,  nor  o’er 
Her  spouse  doth  dowered  consort  domineer. 

Nor  trust  a  gay  adulterer. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Their  dowry  is  their  parents’  virtue  great 
And,  other  love  rejecting,  faith 

True  to  the  marriage  bond.  Such  sin  they  hate, 
And  its  meet  punishment  is  death. 

Does  any  wish  down  these  foul  crimes  to  put 
And  civic  rage  ?  If  he  desire 
“  Father  of  Cities  ”  on  his  statues  cut. 

Wild  lust  to  check  let  him  aspire. 

May  he  be  honoured  by  posterity 
Since  we,  (alas  !  our  wickedness  !) 

Virtue,  whilst  living,  hate  ;  yet,  fickle,  pray 
For  it  when  taken  from  our  eyes. 

Of  what  avail  are  wailings  sorrowful. 

If  sin  is  not  by  stripes  down  hurled  ? 

Morals  without,  what  do  vain  laws  avail  ? 

Since  nor  that  quarter  of  the  world 

Parched  by  the  fervid  heats,  nor  distant  shore 
Which  borders  Boreas,  nor  snow 

Hard  frozen  to  the  ground,  hath  power  to  scare 
The  venturous  merchant.  Sailors  know 

How  stormy  seas  to  rule.  But  poverty, 

That  great  reproach,  compels  us  all 

To  do  or  suffer  aught,  and  from  the  way 
Of  lofty  Virtue  makes  us  fall. 


BOOK  III. 


Either  our  gems,  and  stones,  and  useless  gold. 
Of  all  our  greatest  evils  cause. 

To  the  Capitol  let  us  send,  where  called 
By  an  approving  crowd’s  applause  ; 

Or  to  the  nearest  sea,  if  we  bewail 
Our  sin  in  truth.  Of  avarice 
The  elements  depraved  we  must  expel  ; 

And  souls  sprung  from  too  soft  a  race 

By  nobler  studies  must  be  fortified. 

The  high-born  youth,  from  lack  of  skill. 

Is  not  e’en  able  on  a  horse  to  ride 
And  fears  to  hunt.  Yet,  if  you  will. 

More  skilled  is  he  with  Grecian  hoop  to  play. 
Or  with  the  dice  by  laws  repressed  ; 

Whilst  father’s  faithless  perjuries  betray 
His  friend,  his  consort,  and  his  guest. 

For  worthless  heir  he  money  piles  with  speed  : 

Forsooth,  wealth  gotten  wickedly 
Still  grows  !  Something,  I  know  not  what,  we 
Mere  riches  cannot  satisfy  ! 


OD?:S  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXV. 


To  Bacchus. 


I  ilT HITHER,  oh  Bacchus  !  dost  thou  hurry  me 


Inspired  by  thee  ?  Into  what  cave  or  wood 


Am  I  now  swiftly  borne  in  fancy  free  ? 

Now  in  wliat  grot  to  sing  shall  I  be  heard 

Great  Caesar’s  endless  fame,  him  to  instal 
Amid  the  stars  and  in  the  courts  of  Jove  ? 

Now  will  I  sing  the  new,  the  wonderful. 

Unsung  before  !  As  from  the  cliffs  above, 

The  sleepless  Bacchanal  with  awe  doth  see 

Hebrus,  and  Rhodope,  and  Thrace  snow-white. 
Trodden  by  savage  foot,  just  so  to  me 

The  banks  and  empty  grove  afford  delight. 

To  feel  their  charms  as  wandering  I  go  ! 

Oh  thou,  who  o’er  the  Naiads  dost  bear  sway 
And  Bacchanals,  they  who  can  overthrow 

Tall  ash-trees  with  their  hands  !  Naught  will  I  say 

Of  what  is  little,  or  in  humble  mode. 

Nor  aught  of  mortal  things.  Sweet  risk  be  mine, 
Oh  blest  Lenaeus  !  to  pursue  the  God, 

Who  round  his  brow  ereen  vine-leaves  doth  entwine 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  XXVI. 


To  Venus. 


W  LATELY  lived  a  squire  of  dames, 


^  A  victor  in  the  lists  of  love  ; 

Such  contests  o’er,  the  arms  I  used 

And  hi^h-strung  harp,  this  wall  shall  have 

This  wall  which  sea-born  Venus  guards 
Upon  her  left.  Here,  here,  dispose 
The  shining  torches,  crowbars  too, 

And,  doors  opposing,  threat’ning  bows. 

Goddess  !  who  boldest  Cyprus  blest. 

And  Memphis  from  Sithonian  snow 
Aye  free  !  Oh  Queen  !  thy  whirling  scourge 
But  once  let  haughty  Chloe  know  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXVII. 
To  Galatea. 


AY  the  ill  omen  of  the  screech-owl’s  cry, 

Of  pregnant  bitch,  or  grey  wolf  running  by 
From  the  Lanuvian  fields,  or  fox  with  young. 
Before  the  path  of  impious  men  be  flung  ! 


May  ev’ry  journey  which  they  undertake 
Be  broken  by  the  sight  of  writhing  snake 
Which,  like  an  arrow,  shall  the  steeds  affright  ! 
What  shall  I  fear,  an  augur  of  foresight  ? 


By  prayer  from  sunrise  will  I  supplicate 
The  boding  raven,  ere  the  bird  of  Fate, 
Prophetic  ever  of  impending  rain, 

To  stagnant  marshes  shall  return  again. 

May’st  thou  be  happy,  Galatea,  where’er 
Thou  art,  and  may’st  thou  live  a  soul  to  bear 
Mindful  of  me  ;  nor  may  the  wand’ring  crow 
Nor  magpie  on  the  left  bar  thee  to  go. 


144 


BOOK  III. 


But  see’st  thou  not  with  what  tumultuous  rage 
Sets  grim  Orion  ?  I  can  well  presage 
How  Adriatic’s  darksome  gulf  can  heave, 

And  how  fair  West  winds  will  at  times  deceive. 

Let  wives  and  children  of  our  foemen  know 

The  blinding  tempests  when  the  South  winds  blow  ; 

The  roar  of  ocean,  black  as  midnight  hour  ; 

And  shores  all  trembling  with  the  raging  pow’r. 

So  did  Europa  trust  her  snowy  side 
To  treach’rous  bull,  but  at  the  ocean  wide. 

With  monsters  teeming,  brave,  she  pallid  grew 
When  the  vile  fraud  was  opened  to  her  view. 

She  who  so  lately,  busied  with  her  flowers, 

A  garland  weaving,  passed  afield  the  hours,- 
Owed  to  the  Nymphs  ;  now  in  the  darksome  night 
Saw  naught  but  stars  and  waves  by  fading  light. 

So  soon  as  Crete,  of  hundred  towns  the  pride. 

She  reached,  with  horror  overcome  she  cried  : — 

‘  Oh  Father  !  Oh  dear  name  of  daughter  left ! 

‘  And  oh  !  my  fame,  of  which  I  am  bereft  ! 

‘Whence?  Whither  have  I  come?  For  virgins’  cri 
‘  One  death  too  light  !  In  this  my  waking  time 
‘  Foul  sin  do  I  deplore  ?  Or  am  I  free 
‘  From  wicked  act,  and  does  a  phantom  me 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


“  Deceive,  which,  flying  from  the  iv’ry  gate, 

“  Comes  in  my  sleep  ?  Which  were  the  better  fate  ; 

“  Thro’  never-ending  waves  to  plough  my  way, 

“  Or  gather  budding  blossoms  all  the  day  ? 

“  If  to  me  now,  enraged,  would  any  give 
“  That  hated  bull,  to  pierce  him  would  I  strive 
“  With  the  sharp  sword  ;  to  break  with  all  my  might 
“  The  monster’s  horns,  once  beauteous  in  my  sight. 

“  Oh  shameless  !  have  I  left  my  Father’s  home  ! 

“  Oh  shameless  !  I  delay  to  death  to  come  ! 

“  If  any  of  the  Gods  my  sin  should  know, 

“  Naked  ’mid  lions  should  I  long  to  go  ! 

“  Before  my  rounded  checks  by  foul  decay 
“  Re  seized,  and  freshness  from  their  tender  prey 
“  Shall  pass  away,  tigers  i’ll  seek  with  speed, 

“  Whilst  yet  I’m  comely,  with  my  flesh  to  feed  ! 

“  ‘  Europa  vile  ’ !  such  absent  Father’s  cry, 

“  ‘  Why  dost  thou  hesitate  at  once  to  die  ? 

“  ‘  Fit  for  such  purpose,  now  thy  girdle  take 
“  '  Suspended  from  this  ash  thy  neck  to  break  ; 

“  ‘  Or  if  high  cliffs  and  rocks  with  death  replete 
“  ‘  Thou  dost  prefer,  haste  now  to  tempest  fleet 
“  ‘  Thyself  to  trust  ;  sure  thou,  of  royal  race, 

“  ‘  Would’st  never  card  a  mistress’  wool,  nor  place 


BOOK  III. 


“  ‘  Thyself,  a  wanton,  in  barbarian  home.’  ” 
Sly-smiling  Venus  and  her  Boy  now  come. 

With  bow  unbent,  to  her  complaining  so  ; 

Soon  when  she  thought  she’d  rallied  her  enow’. 

Thus  did  she  speak  : — From  angry  chidings  cease 
“  And  from  sad  wailing.  Let  there  now  be  peace. 

“  Restrain  thine  anger  when  his  stately  horn 
“  The  hated  bull  surrenders  to  be  torn. 

“  Dost  thou  not  know  that  it  doth  thee  behove 
“To  be  the  consort  of  all-conqu’ring  Jove? 

“  Cease  then  thy  sobs,  and  learn  to  wear  thy  fame, 

“  One  quarter  of  the  Globe  shall  bear  thy  name.” 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXVIII. 
To  L  V  D  E  . 


"^^THAT  better  can  I  do  on  Neptune’s  festal  day  ? 

r  r  Quick,  Lyde,  bring  the  Caecuban 

In  the  dark  cellar  hid,  and  drive  for  once  away 
Wisdom  our  guardian  ! 

You  must  perceive  how  quickly  passes  noon  and  yet. 

As  tho’  stood  still  the  flying  day. 

The  jar  when  Bibulus  was  consul  stored  forget 
From  bin  to  bring  away, 

Neptune  I’ll  sing  and  Nereids’  loclvs  with  sea-weed  girt 
By  turns.  And  you,  to  sounding  lute. 

Shall  sing  responsive  of  Latona  and  the  dart 
Of  Cynthia  swift  of  foot. 

That  song  complete,  next  shall  you  sing  her  whom  delight 
Paphos  and  shining  Cyclades, 

Who  Cnidos  visits  with  her  harnessed  swans.  And  Niglit 
With  song  deserved  appease. 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  XXIX. 

To  Maecenas. 


AECENAS,  progeny  of  Tuscan  Kings, 

For  thee  rich  wine  my  humble  cottage  brings, 
Long  stored  in  cask  which  not  before 
Hath  tilted  been.  The  rose’s  flower 


And  bright  oil  for  thy  locks.  Now  all  delays 
Avoid,  nor  Tibur  moist  behold  always, 

Nor  sloping  Aesula,  nor  hill 
Of  him  who  did  Ulysses  kill. 

Leave  dainty  wealth  and  palaces  which  rise 
To  loft}^  clouds  ;  nor  in  the  smoky  skies 
Delight,  nor  in  the  busy  hum 
And  teeming  wealth  of  happy  Rome. 

To  rich  men  changes  oft  must  grateful  be, 

And  cleanly  meal  beneath  the  low  roof-tree 

Of  a  poor  friend  smooths  brow  of  care. 
Curtains  without  or  purple  rare. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Now  doth  Andromeda’s  renowned  sire 

His  hidden  fire  reveal,  now  Procyon’s  ire 
And  raging  Lion’s  star  return, 

The  sultry  days  brings  back  the  sun. 

Now  the  tired  shepherd  and  his  languid  flock 

The  shades,  the  streams,  and  thicket-covered  rock 
Of  rough  Silvanus  seek  ;  the  shore 
By  vagrant  winds  is  stirr’d  no  more. 

Thy  care  what  constitution  fits  the  state  ; 

Thine  anxious  fears  are  all  for  Rome.  What  fate 
The  Seres  bring  and  Bactra,  ruled 
By  Cyrus,  and  Tanai’s  bold. 

Wise  God  enshrouds  events  in  misty  night 

Of  future  time  ;  and  at  our  mortal  fright 

He  smiles  when  overstrained.  Take  care 
To  set  in  order  just  and  fair 

The  present  times  ;  the  future  may  be  found 

Like  some  great  river,  now  in  channel  bound, 
Which  calmly  glides  to  Tuscan  sea  ; 

Now  rolling  down  in  torrent  free 

Worn  stones  and  torn-up  roots,  houses,  and  flocks, 

’Mid  echoes  of  the  ncighb’ring  woods  and  rocks. 
Which,  whirling  down  in  foaming  spate. 
The  quiet  rivers  irritate. 


BOOK  til. 


Me,  master  of  himself,  each  happy  day 
To  whom  ’tis  lawful — “  I  have  lived  ” — to  say, 

Is  blessed.  To-morrow  let  the  Sire 
The  pole  enwrap  in  clouds  of  fire. 

Or  dazzle  with  his  sun.  Yet  aye  beware 
Lest  nothing'  from  the  past  you  learn  ;  nor  mar, 
Mor  undo  what  the  flying  hour 
Math  once  effected  by  its  power. 

h'ortune,  delighting  in  her  cruel  scheme, 
Persistent  still  to  play  her  horrid  game, 
Uncertain  honours  takes  away, 

Now  kind  to  others,  now  to  me. 

I  laud  her  while  she  stays.  If  pinions  swift 
She  flutters,  freely  I  resign  her  gift  ; 

Myself  in  my  own  virtue  fold, 
Preferring  honest  want  to  gold. 

If  under  Afric’s  storms  the  mast  shall  groan, 

’Tis  not  for  me  to  coward  prayers  to  run. 

Nor  yet  with  anxious  vows  enquire 
If  wares  of  Cyprus  or  of  Tyre 

Shall  swell  the  riches  of  the  greedy  seas, 

ICcn  then  the  help  of  two-oared  boat,  or  breeze. 
Or  Pollux’  twin,  may  still  me  save 
I'rom  wild  Acgacan’s  stormy  wave  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XXX. 

/ 

1'  o  Mel  p  o  m  e  n  e  . 


4  MONUMENT  Tvc  raised,  more  lasting  far 
ilk  Than  bronze,  and  loftier  than  the  ro)'al  site 
Of  pyramids  ;  which  neither  biting  shower. 

Nor  impotent  North-wind,  nor  rapid  flight 

Of  years,  nor  lapse  of  countless  time 

Can  e’er  destroy.  I  shall  not  wholly  die  ! 

My  nobler  part  shall  death  escape  !  My  fame 
Renewed  by  praises  of  posterity. 

So  long  as  priest  and  silent  virgin  climb 

The  Capitol.  I  shall  be  named  where  roars 
Swift  Aufidus  ;  where  Daunus’  scanty  stream 
A  rustic  race  hath  ruled.  My  genius  soars 

From  humble  origin,  who  first  attuned 

To  Grecian  measures  Latin  song.  The  grace 
Assume,  by  merit  earned  ;  my  locks  around, 
Melpomene,  the  Delphic  laurel  place  ! 


BOOK  IV. 


BOOK  IV. 


ODE  1. 

To  Venus. 


H  VENUS!  dost  thou  plot  again 
The  wars  long  ceased  ?  Spare  me,  I  pray,  I  pray  ! 

I  am  not  what  I  was  in  reign 
Of  gentle  Cinara  !  Cease  then  to  sway, 

Who  of  sweet  loves  great  mother  art, 

Me  hardened  by  the  flight  of  fifty  years 

Against  thy  soft  commands  !  Depart 
Where  thou  art  called  by  youths’  alluring  prayers  ! 

More  fitly  shalt  thou  to  the  home 
Of  Paullus  Maximus  repair,  thou  swift 

With  swans  divine,  if  thou  wouldst  come 
A  fitting  heart  with  burning  love  t’  engift. 

High-born  and  handsome  he,  whose  skill 
Is  eloquent  in  anxious  suitors’  cause  ; 

Youth  of  a  hundred  arts,  he  will 
Bear  far  and  wide  the  standards  of  thy  wars. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


And  when  he  shall  prevail  in  love 
And  laugh  to  scorn  his  rival’s  presents  large, 

He’ll  place  thee  under  citron  roof 
In  marble,  by  the  Alban  waters’  marge  ; 

I'here  with  thy  nostrils  to  inhale 
Much  incense,  whilst  the  Bcrecyntian  flutes 

And  harps  shall  charm,  nor  shall  there  fail 
To  thee  the  mingled  harmony  of  lutes. 

There  twice  in  every  day  the  boys 
And  tender  virgins  shall  thy  godhead  sing  ; 

Whilst,  with  white  foot  and  Salian  noise, 

To  thee  the  shaken  ground  shall  three  times  ring. 

Nor  maid,  nor  youth,  delights  me  now. 

Nor  hope  believing  mutual  love  is  mine. 

In  drinking  to  contend,  nor  brow 
With  fresh-cut  blossoms  of  the  flowers  to  twine  ! 

But  why  !  ah  Ligurinus,  why 
Adown  my  cheeks  do  tears  unwonted  steal  ? 

Why  do  the  dulcet  accents  die 
Upon  my  tongue  in  silence  pitiful? 

Now  do  I  hold  thee  in  my  dreams 
Clasped  to  my  heart  !  Now  do  I  follow  thee. 

Swift  dashing  thro’  the  h'ield  of  Arms, 

And  thee,  obdurate,  o’er  the  dancing  sea  ! 


BOOK  IV. 


ODE  II. 

To  I  U  L  U  S  A  N  T  O  N  I  U  S  . 


E  who  would  rival  Pindar’s  fame 
Like  him,  lulus,  shall  give  name 
To  glassy  sea,  raised  by  Daedalean  skill 

On  waxen  quill. 

Like  mountain  stream  which  whirls  amain 
Beyond  its  banks,  when  swoll’n  by  rain, 

So  glorious  Pindar  foams  and  sweeps  along, 

In  mighty  song. 

Worthy  is  he  of  Phoebus’  bays. 

Whether  he  chaunts  new  words  of  praise 
In  daring  dith’rambs,  and  in  numbers  free 

From  rule  may  be. 

Whether  of  Gods  or  God-sprung  kings. 

By  whom  the  Centaurs  fell,  he  sings. 

To  death  deserved  ;  who  dread  Chimaera’s  might 

Could  put  to  flight  : 


ODKS  OF  HORACE. 

Or  sings  of  those  whom  Elis’  meed 
Sent  home  with  glory  ;  of  the  steed, 

Or  wrestler  ;  more  than  hundred  statues  lifts 
With  nobler  gifts  : 

Or,  snatch’d  away  from  weeping  bride. 

Some  youth  deplores,  whose  strength  and  pride 
And  morals  pure  he  raises  to  the  sky. 

Never  to  die  : 

High  the  Dircaean  Swan  careers 
On  mighty  gale,  whene’er  he  soars 
Thro’  lofty  clouds.  I,  like  Matinian  bee. 

Of  small  degree. 

In  style  and  mode,  Antonius,  sip 
The  pleasant  thyme  with  labour  deep, 

’Mid  groves  and  banks  of  Tibur  moist  creep  on 
In  laboured  song. 

Thou,  loftier  poet,  shalt  Caesar  sing, 

When  well-won  garland  he  shall  bring 
And  drag  the  fierce  Sygambri  at  his  will. 

Up  sacred  hill  : 

Than  whom  the  Fates  and  Gods  of  heaven 
Not  one  more  great  to  earth  have  given. 

None  better  ;  not  though  we  again  behold 
The  age  of  gold. 


BOOK  IV. 


And  thou  shalt  sing  the  happy  times, 

The  City’s  sports,  when  Caesar  comes, 

Brave  chieftain  prayed-for  long  ;  and  when  no  cause 

rhe  forum  knows. 

Then  shall  my  voice  the  silence  break, 

(If  aught  worth  hearing  I  can  speak,) 

And,  Caesar  home,  will  sing  : — “  Oh  glorious  days  ! 

“  Oh  worthy  praise  !  ” 

And  as  he  passes  thou  and  I, 

And  all  the  city  too,  shall  cry  : — 

“  Hail,  conqu’ring  hero  !  ”  and  to  Gods  above 

Will  incense  give. 

Ten  bulls  and  cows  as  many  thee 
Shall  then  absolve  ;  a  young  calf  me 
Which,  parted  from  its  dam,  in  broad  fields  grows 

To  pay  my  vows  : 

Its  forehead  like  the  flaming  horn 
Of  moon  thrice  risen,  where  is  borne 
A  beauteous  snow-white  blaze,  the  rest  to  view 

Of  tawny  hue. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  III. 

/ 

To  Melpomene. 


HOM  thou,  Melpomene,  hast  seen 
With  fav’ring  eye  at  natal  hour. 

In  Isthmian  contest  ne’er  hath  been 
Made  famous  by  the  wrestler’s  power  ; 

Nor  by  swift  steed  as  victor  drawn 
In  Grecian  car  ;  nor,  chieftain  famed 
In  Capitol,  whose  feats  adorn 

The  Delian  leaves,  the  threat’nings  tamed 

Of  boastful  kings.  The  streams  that  flow 
By  Tibur  rich,  the  leaves  among 
Of  her  dense  groves,  his  name  shall  show, 

A  master  of  Aeolian  song. 

Rome’s  offspring,  chief  of  cities,  deigns 
To  rank  me  ’mid  the  chorus  fair 
Of  bards,  and  now  no  more  remains 
Of  envy’s  biting  tooth  the  fear. 


BOOK  IV. 

Oh  Muse  !  who  aye  dost  modulate 
Harmonious  sound  of  golden  shell, 
And  mak’st  dumb  fishes  imitate 
The  music  of  the  swans  at  will  ; 


That  passers-by  the  name  to  give 
As  bard  of  Roman  lyre  combine, 
Is  all  thy  gift  ;  and  that  I  live 

And  please,  if  I  do  please,  is  thine 


159 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  IV. 


The  Praises  of  D  r  u  s  u  s  . 


IKE  the  wing’d  minister  of  thund’ring  Jove, 

Mj  (To  whom  the  King  of  Gods  a  kingdom  gave 
Amongst  the  flying  birds,  of  faith  the  meed 
About  the  matter  of  fair  Ganymede,) 

Whom  youth  and  strength  hereditary  drove. 

Of  toil  unknowing,  from  the  nest  of  love  ; 

Whom  vernal  breezes  and  the  clouds  roll’d  by 
Unusual  enterprizes  taught  to  try  ; 

First  tim’rous,  soon  a  quickening  impulse  bore 
Against  the  sheep-folds  him  to  carry  war  ; 

And  next  the  longing  after  food  and  fight 
The  writhing  serpents  urged  him  on  to  smite  : 

Just  as  a  she-goat,  happily  intent 
On  the  rich  food  of  pastures  succulent, 

A  lion  sees  from  dun  dam’s  milky  teat 

Just  weaned,  who’ll  slay  her  soon  with  fang  new-cut 


BOOK  IV. 


So  the  Vindelici  did  Drusus  see 
Against  the  Rhaeti  gaining  victory 
Under  the  Alps  ;  (whom  custom  thro’  all  time 
Right  hands  with  Amazonian  axe  doth  arm, 

From  what  derived,  I  sought  not  to  enquire. 

Nor  everything  to  know  may  we  aspire 
But  bands  long  time  victorious  far  and  wide. 

When  youthful  plans  had  tamed  their  conqu’ring  pride. 

Felt  what  an  intellect  well-trained,  a  race 
Which  had  been  nourish’d  in  auspicious  place. 

Could  do  ;  how  much  the  youthful  Neros  were 
Indebted  to  Augustus’  fost’ring  care. 

Of  brave  and  good  men  brave  men  are  the  seed. 

There  is  in  heifer,  and  there  js  in  steed. 

The  virtue  of  their  parents  ;  and  begot 
By  warlike  eagles  peaceful  doves  are  not. 

By  teaching  innate  talent  grows  the  more. 

And  proper  culture  strengthens  mental  power  ; 

When  morals  wanting,  then  do  actions  base 
Minds  which  are  naturally  good  disgrace. 

What  thou,  oh  Rome,  dost  to  the  Neros  owe 
Let  conquered  Hasdrubal  as  witness  show, 

Metaurus’  stream,  and  that  all  beauteous  day. 

The  darkness  driven  from  Latium  far  away. 


1 6] 


L 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Which  first  upon  their  glorious  victory  smiled  ; 
When  thro’  Italian  towns  the  Afric’  wild 
In  fury  rode,  as  flame  ’mid  pine  trees  cast, 

Or  thro’  Sicilian  waves  the  Eastern  blast. 

From  that  day  did  the  Roman  youth  increase 
In  prosp’rous  labours,  and  returning  peace 
Restored  the  fanes  by  Punic  rage  o’erthrown, 
And  raised  the  statues  of  our  Gods  again. 


’Twas  then  at  last  false  Hannibal  did  cry  : — 

“  Now  we,  like  stags,  of  rav’ning  wolves  the  prey, 

“  Do  tamely  stoop  to  those  whom  to  mislead 
“  And  fly  from  is  a  triumph  fair  indeed. 

“  That  nation  which,  tossed  on  the  Tuscan  wave, 

“  Could  in  Ausonian  cities  bravely  save 
Their  Gods,  their  children,  and  their  aged  sires, 

“  From  the  burnt  ashes  of  the  Trojan  fires  ; 

“  As  when  on  Algidus  the  black-leaved  oak, 

“  By  keen-edged  axes  lopped,  e’en  from  the  stroke 
‘  And  from  the  pruning  of  its  boughs  doth  feel 
“  New  strength  and  vigour  from  the  very  steel. 

“  Nor  did  the  Hydra’s  severed  body  grow 
“  More  strong  ’gainst  Hercules’  repeated  blow, 

“  Who  scorned  defeat  ;  nor  did  the  Colchians  breed, 
“  Nor  Echionian  Thebes,  more  monstrous  seed. 


BOOK  IV. 


j  “  Tho’  you  may  sink  them  in  the  deep,  they  will 

1“  More  beauteous  rise.  Tho’  you  may  strive,  yet  still 
“  The  yet  unconquered  conqu’ror  they’ll  o’erthrow 
“  In  glorious  warfare  which  your  wives  shall  know. 

‘‘  No  longer  boasting  messengers  I’ll  send 
“  To  Carthage.  All  my  hope  and  fortune  end, 

“  The  fortune  of  my  name  is  gone, — is  gone,  < 

‘  For  my  brave  brother  Hasdrubal  is  slain  !  ” 

Nothing  indeed  there  is  which  Claudian  hands  j 

Cannot  effect,  whom  Jupiter  defends  j 

With  providence  benign,  and  whom  shrewd  care  i 

)  Conducts  thro’  sharpest  stratagems  of  war. 

\ 

) 

I  ' 

<  { 


163 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  V. 

1'  o  August  u  s 


COOD  Leader  !  sprung  from  Gods  benign, 
Best  guardian  of  the  Roman  line, 

Too  long  thou’rt  absent,  come  with  speed 
To  meet  the  sacred  Senate’s  need. 

Bring  back  to  us  thy  promised  light, 

For  where,  like  Spring,  thy  visage  bright 
Thy  people  see,  sweet  pass  the  days 
And  brighter  beam  the  heav’nly  rays. 

As  mother  who  for  son  doth  yearn 
When  South  winds  hinder  his  return 
With  hated  blast,  to  his  sweet  home, 
Compell’d  Carpathian  seas  to  roam 


More  than  a  year,  with  vow  and  prayer 
And  omen  calls,  nor  from  curved  shore 
Withdraws  her  gaze  ;  so,  Caesar,  thee 
Thy  faithful  country  longs  to  see. 


NX**  .KN,  X>  XN  ,r*»  y-N  XN  XN  XVXN.  XN  X 


BOOK  IV. 


The  ox  in  safety  roams  the  fields, 

The  happy  land  abundance  yields, 

Thro’  peaceful  seas  the  sailors  fly, 

Faith  fears  doubt  of  its  verity  ; 

Chaste  homes  no  more  adult’ries  stain, 
Morals  and  laws  foul  sin  restrain, 

Sons  like  their  sires  our  matrons  laud, 

And  punishment  is  sin’s  reward. 

Who  fears  the  Parthian  ?  Who  the  Mede 
From  frozen  clime?  Or  who  the  seed 
Of  fell  Germania  ?  Whom  can  chafe 
Spain’s  savage  war,  whilst  Caesar’s  safe  ? 

On  his  own  hills  each  evening  sees. 

And  trains  the  vine  to  sapless  trees. 

Hence  to  his  wine  returns  with  glee 
And,  as  a  God,  to  feast  bids  thee. 

With  many  prayers  he  thee  adores, 

With  wine  which  from  the  cups  he  pours  ; 
Thy  Godhead  in  his  Lares  sees. 

As  Castor  Greece,  and  Hercules. 

Good  Leader  !  would  that  thou  may’st  bring 
Long  joys  to  Rome  !  This  we  will  sing 
When  dry  in  early  morn,  and  when 
Well  drunk,  ’neath  ocean  sinks  the  sun. 


165 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  VI. 
To  Apollo. 


eH  GOD  !  whom  Niobe’s  fair  children  knew, 
Avenger  of  a  boastful  tongue  ;  who  slew 
Tityus  the  thief ;  Phthian  Achilles  too, 

Nigh  victor  of  proud  Troy. 

A  soldier  greater  than  the  rest,  not  near 

Thy  match  ;  tho’,  warring  with  tremendous  spear. 

He  made  Dardanian  turrets  shake  with  fear, — 

Of  sea-born  Thetis  boy. 

Like  pine  tree  struck  by  biting  iron’s  blows. 

Or  cypress  which  the  eastern  blast  o’erthrows. 

So  falls  he  far,  and  his  proud  neck  he  bows 
In  Trojan  dust  to  fall. 

He,  not  enclosed  within  the  lying  horse, 

Pallas’  pretended  gift,  would  have  recourse 
To  craft  ’gainst  foolish  Trojans  who  rejoice 
To  dance  in  Priam’s  hall  : 

But  to  the  captured  openly  severe, 

(Impious  !  alas  !)  with  Grecian  fire  he  swore 
That  guiltless  infants  he  would  burn  ; — nay  more. 
E’en  in  their  mother’s  womb  ! 


BOOK  IV. 


Had  not  the  Father  of  the  Gods  bestowed 
Upon  Aeneas’  fortunes  an  abode 
Of  mightier  auspices,  by  thee  implored 
And  Venus  sweet,  o’ercome. 

Phoebus  !  accomplished  bard  of  Thalia  wise. 

Who  lav’st  thy  locks  where  Xanthus’  river  lies  ! 
Gentle  Agyieus,  of  the  Daunian  Muse 
Do  thou  defend  the  fame  ! 

Phoebus  hath  given  me  soul,  Phoebus  the  art 
Of  song  hath  given,  and  the  proud  name  of  poet  ! 
Oh  high-born  virgins,  and  oh  boys  who  start 
From  sires  of  lofty  name  ; 

Oh  wards  of  Delian  Goddess,  who  doth  cow 
The  stags  and  flying  lynxes  with  her  bow  ; 
Observe  the  Lesbian  time,  and  mark  the  blow 
Of  my  uplifted  thumb. 

Duly  Latona  s  son  shall  wake  your  song. 

Duly  fair  Luna’s  light,  which  grows  more  strong, 
Prosp’rous  in  fruits,  and  swift  to  roll  along 
The  passing  months  that  come. 

Now  married,  thou  wilt  say  : — “  Obedient  I 
“  Unto  the  measures  of  bard  Horace,  say 
‘  Hymns  pleasing  to  the  Gods  ;  the  century 


The  festal  day  brings  round.’ 


167 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  VII. 

To  Torquatus. 


^HE  snows  are  fled.  Green  smiles  the  rich  champaign, 

Now  bursts  the  leaf ; 

By  lofty  banks  the  loosened  rivers  dash, 


All  changed  the  earth  ! 


The  light-clad  Nymphs  and  graceful  Sisters  three 

Now  lead  the  dance. 

Hope  not  to  live  !  The  dying  day  and  year 

Thine  end  advance. 


The  gentle  winds  to  biting  frosts  succeed. 

Summer  to  Spring  ; 

Fruit-bearing  Autumn  fades  ;  and  see  again 

The  Winters  bring. 


So  Nature  lives  again  in  endless  round  ; 

Alas  !  not  we  ! 

Where  sire  Aeneas  and  rich  Ancus  lie 

We’ll  shadows  be  ! 


iGH 


hook  IV 


If  death  to-morrow  or  long  life  shall  be, 

Not  thine  to  know  : 

The  greedy  clutches  of  thine  heir  shall  grasp 

All  left  below  ! 

Once  dead,  Torquatus,  and  thine  awful  doom 

By  Minos  given  ; 

High  birth,  nor  eloquence,  nor  piety. 

Bring  back  from  heaven  ! 

To  free  Hippolytus  from  shades  below 

Must  Dian  fail  : 

Nor  snatch  Pirithous  from  Lethe’s  bond 

Theseus  prevail  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  VIII. 

To  Censor  INUS. 


CENSORINUS  !  I  would  give  with  joy 
\W  To  my  companions  cups  and  brazen  toy  ; 
Tripods,  the  valiant  Grecians’  prize,  Td  give, 

Nor  poorest  of  my  gifts  should  you  receive  ; 

If  I  were  rich  in  works  of  art  indeed. 

Such  as  Parrhasius  or  as  Scopas  made  ; 

This  one  in  stone,  and  that  in  colours  warm, 
Skill’d  now  a  man,  and  now  a  God,  to  form. 

But  not  this  pow’r  to  me  !  Nor  do  your  means 
Such  whims  demand,  nor  inclination  leans. 

In  songs  do  you  delight.  Songs  can  I  make. 
And  tell  the  value  of  the  gift  you  take. 

Not  marble  ’graved  with  formal  words  of  praise 
Which,  after  death,  to  mighty  chiefs  can  raise 
The  breath  and  life  again  ;  not  swift  retreat 
Of  Hannibal,  when  threats  with  scorn  were  met. 


V^- 


BOOK  IV. 

Not  all  the  flames  which  impious  Carthage  knew, 

/t*  /|^  /T\  /T»  /fv 

^  ^ 

/JS  /J\  /JV  /JV 

The  praise  of  that  man  can  more  clearly  shew, 

Who  home  returned  tamed  Afric’s  name  to  use 
In  warfare  gained,  than  the  Calabrian  Muse. 

Nor,  if  my  pen  be  still,  by  you  be  won 

Fit  honour  for  good  deeds.  What  would  the  son 

Of  Mars  and  Ilia  be,  if  silent  spite 

The  worth  of  Romulus  had  hid  ?  The  might, 

The  favour,  and  the  voice  of  bards  sublime 
Make  Aeacus  immortal,  from  the  slime 

Of  Stygian  flood  removed  to  islands  blest. 

The  Muse  forbids  good  men  unknown  to  rest  ! 

The  Muse  adds  bliss  to  heav’n  !  His  labour  ends 
When  Hercules  the  feasts  of  Jove  attends. 

Tyndareus’  sons,  that  constellation  bright. 

Snatch  shattered  ships  from  stormy  ocean’s  might. 
Bacchus,  with  green  vine  tendrils  deck’d  his  brows. 
Gives  a  successful  issue  to  our  vows. 


Ot>ES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  IX. 

To  L  O  L  L  I  u  s . 


not  indeed  the  words  will  die 
A  I  speak  to  mate  with  minstrelsy 
By  arts  before  unknown  to  us  ; — 

I,  born  by  roaring  Aufidus  ! 


Tho’  first  Maeonian  Homer’s  throne, 
Pindar  and  Cean  bard  are  known  ; 

The  lofty  strains  of  Alcaeus, 

And  grave  ones  of  Stesichorus. 

Nor  if  Anacreon  enjoyed 
Gay  odes  to  write,  has  time  destroyed  ; 
Still  breathes  the  love  and  lives  the  fire 
Sung  by  Aeolian  maid  to  lyre. 


Nor  for  adulterer’s  bright  tress, 
Attracted  by  his  gilded  dress. 

His  royal  port,  and  courtly  train, 
Did  Spartan  Helen  only  burn.' 


172 


liOOK  IV. 


Nor  first  did  Teucer  arrows  fly 
From  bow  Cydonian  ;  nor  was  Troy 
But  harried  once  ;  nor  Sthenelus, 

Nor  mighty  Idomeneus, 

Alone  fought  battles  sung  by  Muse  ; 
Nor  first  did  brave  Deiphobus, 

Nor  Hector  fierce,  stout  blows  receive 
Chaste  wives  and  children  to  relieve. 

Ere  Agamemnon  many  brave 
Men  lived,  but  hid  in  nameless  grave, 
All  are  unsorrowed  and  unknown. 

For  lack  of  sacred  bard  alone. 

Virtue  unknown  scarce  better  is 
Than  buried  sloth.  Oh  !  Lollius, 

No  longer  silent,  I  will  write 
Thy  praise,  nor  let  oblivion’s  spite 

Upon  thy  many  labours  seize 
Without  an  effort.  Times  of  case 
And  times  of  chill  adversity 
Alike  find  steady  mind  in  thee. 

Avenger  thou  of  greedy  fraud, 

Above  attractive  pelf’s  reward, 
Consul,  not  of  one  year  alone. 

But  oft  as  magistrate  hast  shewn 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Thy  faith  and  honour  in  thy  choice  ; 

Whom  virtues  more  than  gain  rejoice  ; 

Who  base  men’s  gifts  rejects  with  scorn, 

And  thro’  wild  mobs  bright  arms  hast  borne. 

Him  happy  we  can’t  rightly  call 
Great  wealth  who  holds.  To  him  will  fall 
The  name  of  blest,  the  gifts  who  knows 
To  wisely  use  which  God  bestows  : 

Who  cruel  want  with  patience  bears. 

And  worse  than  death  dishonour  fears  : 

That  man  to  die  is  not  afraid. 

For  friends  belov’d  or  country’s  aid. 


BOOK  IV. 


ODE  X. 

To  L  I  (;  u  R  1  N  u  s  . 


0|H  !  cruel  still  and  potent  with  the  gifts  of  love  ! 

When  age  unwelcome  shall  your  lofty  pride  remove 
And  hair  fall  off,  which  now  down  to  your  shoulders  grows 
And  tints  now  brighter  than  the  bloom  of  reddest  rose 
Faded,  oh  !  Ligurinus,  seamed  your  face  shall  be  : 

“  Alas  !  ”  you’ll  say  when  in  your  mirror  chang’d  you’ll  see 
Yourself ;  “Why  is  my  mind  not  same  as  when  a  boy, 

“  Nor  rounded  cheeks  again  the  sweets  of  youth  enjoy?” 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XL 

To  Phyllis. 


IJHYLLIS,  a  cask  of  Alban  wine 
^  I  have,  surviving  winters  nine  ; 
Parsley,  which  you  in  wreaths  may  twiiTC, 
And  ivy  ample  store. 

Which  brightly  shall  your  locks  array  : 

My  house  with  silver  plate  is  gay  : 

The  altars,  bound  with  vervain,  pray 
Now  to  be  sprinkled  o’er 

With  offered  lamb.  All  hands  make  haste 
No  time  the  girls  and  boys  will  waste  ; 
Whilst  o’er  the  roof  black  smoke  is  chased 
By  curls  of  quiv’ring  flame. 

That  you  may  know  your  coming  joy. 

The  Ides  your  service  shall  employ. 

For  April’s  month  divides  this  day. 

Of  sea-born  Venus’  name. 


BOOK  IV. 


This  day,  more  sacred  in  my  sight 
Than  my  own  birthday,  gives  delight. 
From  it  Maecenas,  my  dear  knight. 

Still  counts  the  flowing  years. 

A  rich  and  loving  maid  has  caught 
Young  Telephus,  whom  once  you  sought ; 
Above  your  station  he  is  thought. 

Her  pleasing  chain  he  wears. 


i 

\ 


i  ■ 

( 


t 

i 

1 


Burnt  Phaethon  unmeasured  greed 
Shall  fri  ghten  ;  and  the  winged  steed, 

Wild  Pegasus,  from  rider  freed. 

Earth-born  Bellerophon  : 

That  you  should  worthy  hopes  pursue. 

Nor  have  unequal  match  in  view. 

But  think  it  base  wrong  things  to  do  : 

Come,  of  mv  loves  the  last ! 

(For  for  no  other  maid  Fll  burn,) 

Come  then,  with  me  the  measiires  learn 
Which  you  with  voice  belov’d  shall  turn, — 
Song  cares  away  shall  cast  ! 


I 

( 


'77 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XII. 
To  Virgil, 


SOW  Thracian  breezes,  harbingers  of  spring, 
Impel  the  sails  and  calm  to  ocean  bring  ; 
Now  neither  frozen  are  the  meads,  nor  flow 
The  roaring  rivers  swoll’n  with  winter  snow. 

The  bird  unhappy  now  her  nest  prepares, 

Who  mourns  the  fate  of  Itys  with  her  tears  ; 
Eternal  shame  on  Cecrops’  line  she  brings, 

Who,  base,  aveng’d  the  barb’rous  lust  of  kings. 

The  guardians  of  fat  sheep,  in  pastures  bright. 
Sing  songs  to  strain  of  pipe,  and  thus  delight 
The  God  who  wand’ring  flocks  with  pleasure  sees. 
And  whom  Arcadia’s  shady  mountains  please. 

Virgil,  the  season  hath  engendered  thirst. 

But  if  to  quaff  the  wine  you  covet  most 
In  Gales  pressed,  oh  friend  of  noble  boys, 

You  wish,  for  it  your  costly  spikenard  pays  ! 


178 


BOOK  IV.  : 

A  little  box  of  spikenard  shall  reveal 

A  cask  Sulpicius’  cellars  now  conceal  ;  j 

Gen’rous  to  give  new  hopes,  doubt  not  it  may  j 

The  bitterness  of  sorrow  wash  away.  j 

If  you  would  haste  to  joys  like  these,  come  swift  | 

And  bring  your  merchandize  ;  without  a  gift  j 

That  you  should  drain  my  cups  I  can’t  afford. 

As  tho’  a  rich  man  with  a  house  well  stored.  | 

) 

> 

Now  leave  delays  and  the  desire  for  gain,  > 

Mindful  of  flames  below  ;  with  wisdom’s  pain  \ 

A  little  folly  mingle  whilst  you  may  ;  \ 

In  the  right  place  ’tis  sweet  the  fool  to  play  !  | 


) 

1 


) 

I 

) 


i 

i 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIII. 
To  L  Y  C  E. 


YCE,  the  Gods  have  heard  my  vow  ; 

I.  .yce,  the  Gods  have  heard  ;  for  now 
Thou’rt  old,  but  shameless  still, 

Would’st  fain  seem  fair,  and  frisk,  and  drink  thy  fill  ; 

And,  drunk,  dost  tardy  Cupid  woo 
With  quav’ring  song,  the  fair  cheeks  who 
Of  youthful  Chia  loves. 

Whose  well-taught  song  his  true  affection  moves. 

Beyond  the  barren  oaks  he  flies, 

Rejecting  thee,  whene’er  he  spies 

Black  teeth  which  thee  disgrace. 

And  snow-white  hair  and  seamed  and  wrinkled  face. 

Nor  Coan  purples  now  bring  back. 

Nor  sparkling  gems,  to  thee  the  lack 
Of  youth,  which  flying  day 
And  records  too  well  known  have  ta’cn  away. 


BOOK  IV. 

Whither  flies  love  ?  Alas  !  or  where 
Thy  bloom  ?  Where  doth  that  grace  appear  ? 
Of  her  what  hast  thou  still, — 

Of  her  who  love  inspired  e’en  ’gainst  my  will  ? 

Blest  next  to  Cinara  thou’rt  named, 

Whose  face  for  witching  arts  was  famed  ; 

To  Cinara  the  Fates 

Few  years  have  given,  whilst  still  for  Lyce  waits 

The  tedious  age  of  raven  old. 

That  fervid  youngsters  may  behold, 

With  laughter  loud  and  long, 

The  torch  that  burnt  them  in  the  ashes  flung 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


ODE  XIV. 

To  Augustus. 


HAT  care  of  Senate  or  of  Roman  race 
Thy  fame,  Augustus,  shall  for  ever  grace 
By  ample  gifts  of  high  reward. 
Inscriptions  cut  and  long  record  ; 

Greatest  of  chieftains,  wheresoe’er  the  sun 
O’er  habitable  shores  his  course  doth  run  ? 
Vindelici,  of  Latin  law. 

Which  they  had  never  known  before. 

Have  lately  learnt,  and  what  thy  warlike  might. 
For  with  thy  soldiers  did  brave  Drusus  smite 
The  wild  Genauni,  restless  grown. 

And  Breuni  swift,  not  once  alone  ; 

And  forts  which  frown  from  lofty  Alpine  height. 
The  elder  Nero  late  in  mighty  fight 

Engaged,  and  soon  the  Rhaeti  fell,. 

With  prosp’rous  auspice,  did  repel. 


BOOK  IV. 


In  martial  conflict  aye  to  be  admired, 

With  what  destruction  he  the  bosoms  tired 
Devoted  to  a  willing  death  ; 

Just  as  the  South  wind’s  furious  breath 

The  tameless  waters  lashes,  when  divides 
The  clouds  the  chorus  of  the  Pleiades  ; 

So  swift  he  harries  troops  of  foes. 

Thro’  flames  on  foaming  steed  he  goes. 

As  bull-shaped  Aufidus  rolls  on,  which  drains 
Of  our  Apulian  Daunus  the  domains, 

And  threatens,  in  his  raging  mood. 

To  cultured  fields  a  dreadful  flood  ; 

So  Claudius  hath  with  mighty  shock  o’erthrown 
Barbarian  ranks  of  steel,  and  mowing  down 

Both  front  and  rear,  hath  strewn  the  plain 
With  dead,  none  of  his  soldiers  slain  : 

Thou  giving  him  thy  troops,  thy  counsel’s  aid. 
And  fortune.  For  since  Alexandria  made 
Her  homage,  and  did  open  wide 
Her  ports  and  empty  halls  of  pride  ; 

To  the  third  lustrum  fortune  fav’ring  thee, 

A  prosp’rous  issue  to  thy  wars  shall  be. 

And  praise  be  giv’n  and  wish’d  for  fame. 
And  victory  attend  thy  name. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Oh  guardian  prompt  of  Italy  and  Rome, 

The  tameless  Spaniard  and  the  Mede  shall  come, 
The  Indian  and  the  Scythian  fleet. 

In  suppliant  homage  to  thy  feet. 

And  Nile,  which  hides  the  sources  of  her  wave. 
And  lands  which  Danube  and  swift  Tigris  lave. 
And  monster-breeding  seas  which  roar 
Around  the  distant  British  shore. 

Thee  death-despising  land  of  Gaul  shall  hear. 

The  hardy  Spaniard  and  Sygambri  fear. 

Their  love  of  slaughter  and  their  pride 
Subdued,  their  arms  shall  cast  aside. 


•y^^^^^y\^y^y^y 


'>■  y^  y^  y^  y^y 


•>  y-  y>>y-  y^y^^  y^y-m 


BOOK  IV. 


ODE  XV. 

1'  H  E  Praises  of  A  u  g  u  s  t  u  s  . 


IftHOEBUS  to  sing  forbad  me  to  aspire 
JkL  Of  wars  and  conquered  cities  to  my  lyre, 

My  puny  sails  to  spread  bade  me  refrain 
Upon  the  Tyrrhene  sea.  Caesar,  thy  reign 

Hath  to  our  fields  brought  back  a  rich  reward 
And  to  our  sky  the  standards  hath  restored 
From  the  proud  posterns  of  the  Parthians  ta’en  ; 
And  freed  at  last  from  war,  hath  closed  again 

The  gates  of  Janus  of  Ouirinus  hight  ; 

And  wild  licentiousness  hath  bridled  tight 
By  firm  decrees,  and  crime  hath  ta’en  away. 

And  back  to  virtue  giv’n  her  ancient  sway. 

By  which  the  glory  of  the  Latin  name 
And  Roman  pow’r  have  grown  ;  our  empire’s  fame 
And  majesty  from  rising  sun  have  spread 
To  where  he  sinks  upon  his  western  bed. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Whilst  Caesar  is  the  guardian  of  our  state 
Not  civil  war  nor  violence  irate 
Our  peace  shall  drive  away,  nor  cities  poor 
By  rage  which  sharpens  swords  embroil  in  war. 

They  who  deep  Danube  drink  shall  subject  be 
To  Julian  laws,  and  Seres,  and  Getae, 

And  the  perfidious  Persians,  and  the  race 
Born  by  the  banks  of  flowing  Tanais. 

Then  we,  on  common  and  on  sacred  days, 

’Mid  merry  Bacchus’  gifts,  the  song  will  raise. 
With  wives  and  children,  (first  having  given 
Due  supplication  to  the  Gods  of  heaven). 

To  chieftains  who  have  bravely  fought,  and  Troy, 
Anchises  too,  and  lovely  Venus’  boy  ; 

With  songs  which  mingle  with  the  Lydian  lyres. 
According-  to  the  custom  of  our  sires. 


THE  SAECULAR  HYMN. 


THE  SAECULAR  HYMN. 


♦ 


E  Gods  !  who  love  the  forest  shades, 


JL  By  turns  the  glory  of  the  sky  ; 

Phoebus,  whose  worship  never  fades, 

And  Dian,  who  art  ever  nigh, 

Oh  grant  the  bliss  for  which  we  pray. 

Upon  this  great  and  holy  day ! 

Let  chosen  maids  and  virgin  boys, 

As  the  mysterious  Sibyl  taught. 

In  sacred  hymns  upraise  their  voice 
To  you  who  have  our  glory  sought  ; 

Let  all  the  seven  hills  resound 

With  songs  of  praise  that  shake  the  ground. 

Bright  Sun  !  who,  in  thy  radiant  car. 

Dost  both  reveal  and  hide  the  day. 

And  still  returning  from  afar. 

Again  dost  shed  thy  genial  ray  ; 

No  mightier  nation  may’st  thou  see 
Than  Rome,  the  lord  of  earth  and  sea  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 

Ilithyia !  gentle  thou  and  kind, 

Who  givest  ease  to  mothers’  woes, 
May  Roman  mothers  ever  find 

Thee  still  propitious  to  their  throes  ; 
Whether  Lucina  be  thy  name, 
Or  Genitalis,  still  the  same. 


Oh  !  grant  a  still  increasing  race, 

And  prosper  all  our  Senate’s  laws  ; 

May  constant  nuptials  e’er  replace 
The  drain  of  sickness  and  of  wars. 

And  children  cluster  round  the  knee 
Of  each  fond  wife  who  prays  to  thee  ! 


Then  when  the  fast-revolving  years 
Bring  round  again  the  Sacred  Games, 

We’ll  cast  aside  all  doubts  and  fears 
Whilst  eager  joy  our  souls  inflames. 

And  thrice  by  night  and  thrice  by  day. 
By  turns  we’ll  sing,  by  turns  we’ll  pla)^ 


And  you,  ye  Fates,  whose  truthful  voice 
Of  heaven  proclaims  the  fixed  decrees, 
Who  cannot  turn  our  woes  to  joys. 

And  speak  not  mortal  whims  to  please  ; 
May  future  happiness  afford 
Fit  sequel  to  your  past  record  ! 


188 


THE  SAPXULAR  HYMN. 


May  Earth,  still  lavish  of  her  fruits, 

Crown  Ceres  with  the  wreath  of  corn  ; 

May  rains  refresh  the  budding  shoots, 

And  flowers  salute  the  rising  morn  ; 

May  gentle  Zephyrs  sweep  the  plain, 

And  ruddy  Health  in  gladness  reign. 

Oh  Phoebus  !  hide  thy  glittering  dart, 

The  suppliant  youths  in  mercy  hear ! 

Oh  Luna  !  bend  thy  gentle  heart. 

Receive  the  maidens’  fervent  prayer  ! 

High  ’mid  the  shining  stars  thou’rt  seen. 
The  brightest  there,  the  Crescent  Queen  ! 

And  if  Rome  stands  by  your  command. 

And  if  ye  led  the  sons  of  Troy 

To  quit  their  own  dear  native  land. 

And  touch  th’  Etruscan  shore  with  joy  ; 

To  I  lion’s  cruel  fate  resigned, 

They  left  their  ancient  Gods  behind  : 

Whom  chaste  Aeneas,  constant  still. 

And  snatch’d  by  fate  from  Ilion’s  doom. 

With  noble  zeal  and  iron  will. 

Led  from  their  stricken  country’s  tomb. 

To  found  upon  this  happy  shore 
A  nation  mightier  than  before. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Oh  !  grant,  ye  Gods,  unto  our  sons 
The  gift  of  modest  Virtue’s  crown. 

And  grant  unto  our  aged  ones 

In  rest  and  peace  to  lay  them  down  : 

Give  power,  and  fame,  and  happy  home. 
Unto  the  gallant  sons  of  Rome. 

o 


And  oh  !  may  he  who  decks  our  throne, 
From  Venus  and  Anchises  sprung. 

Who  ne’er  forgets  your  pow’r  to  own 
By  victims  slain  and  praises  sung  ; 

May  he  be  victor  o’er  the  foe 
Who  knows  how  mercy  to  bestow ! 


Yes!  now  the  Roman  lords  the  world. 

The  Alban  axe  the  Persian  awes  ; 

In  peace  the  Sc3Thian  flag  is  furled, 
Submissive  to  the  Roman  laws  ; 

And,  vanquish’d  by  Fate’s  stern  decree. 
The  haughty  Indian  bends  the  knee. 


Now  Faith,  and  Peace,  and  Truth  return. 
Nor  Virtue  dreads  the  light  of  day  ; 

No  more  our  sons  vile  Passions  burn. 
And  Modesty  again  bears  sway  ; 

So  happy  Plenty  comes  again 
To  bless  Augustus’  noble  reign. 


I  90 


THE  SAECULAR  HYMN. 


May  Phoebus,  God  of  prophecy, 
Adorned  with  the  glittering  bow. 
For  whom  the  Muses  gently  sigh 
As  sounds  his  lyre,  soft  and  low  ; 
May  he  who  by  the  healing  art. 
Doth  to  the  sick  relief  impart ; 


If  he  with  favouring  eye  behold 
The  Citadels  of  Palatine, 

May  he  prolong  to  years  untold 
The  glories  of  the  Alban  line  ; 

May  haughty  Latium  lift  her  head 
And  on  the  neck  of  empires  tread. 


May  Dian,  whose  proud  temples  stand 
On  Algidus  and  Aventine, 

In  mercy  hear  the  pray’rful  band 
Who  guard  the  volumes  Sibylline, 
And  listen  with  propitious  ears 
Unto  our  ever  grateful  prayers  ! 


Then  we,  the  Chorus,  taught  to  sing 
Of  Phoebus  and  of  Dian  too. 

Still  pray  that  Time’s  unfaltering  wing 
May  all  our  ardent  hopes  renew. 

Great  Jove!  and  all  ye  heavenly  band. 
Oh  shower  these  blessings  on  our  land  ! 


, 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


T  H  E  ERODES 


EPODE  I. 


To  Maecenas. 


H  friend  Maecenas,  thou  wilt  take 

i 

Liburnian  boats  ’gainst  bulwarks  high 
Of  ships,  prepared  to  undergo 

Great  Caesar’s  perils  and  thine  own. 
What  shall  I  do  ?  For  life  will  be 
Joyful  if  thou  survive,  but  sad 
If  not.  Shall  I  then  take  my  ease, 

Not  sweet  indeed  unless  with  thee  ? 

Or  brave,  shall  I  thy  labours  bear 


As  a  courageous  man  becomes  ? 

O 


Bear  them  I  will  !  I’ll  follow  thee 
With  valiant  heart  to  Alpine  peaks. 
Or  to  unfriendly  Caucasus, 

Or  to  the  furthest  western  bay. 

Dost  ask  how  I  thy  work  can  help. 

Who  timid  am  and  weak  in  health  ? 
As  thy  companion  less  I’ll  fear, 

’Tis  absence  makes  us  fear  the  more  ! 


) 

)  . 


*  ’sy  'sy  » 


tt'sy'y>y\y>ysy\y\y  sy^y'sys. 


1  92 


As  bird  which  watches  callow  brood, 
Dreads  more  the  gliding  snake’s  attack 
When  she’s  away,  tho’  powerless. 

If  she  were  there,  to  drive  him  back. 
Gladly  both  this  and  cv’ry  war 
I’d  fight  in  hope  of  pleasing  thee  ; 

Not  that  my  ploughs  should  till  the  land 
Yoked  to  more  oxen,  nor  my  flock 
Should  change  Calabria’s  burning  star 
For  mild  Lucania’s  verdant  fields  : 

Not  that  my  glitt’ring  halls  should  vie 
With  walls  of  lofty  Tusculum 
By  Circe  built.  Thy  charity 

1  lath  given  me  wealth  enough  and  more. 
Riches  I  seek  not  to  obtain. 

Which  cither  I  may  bury  deep. 

Like  miser  Chremes,  in  the  earth. 

Or  like  a  wasteful  spendthrift  lose  ! 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


lU'ODE  II. 


IAPPY  is  he  who,  far  from  business  cares, 
Like  the  first  race  of  men, 

With  his  own  oxen  tills  paternal  fields, 

From  money-lending  freed  ! 

No  soldier  he,  is  by  hoarse  trumpet  stirr’d. 

Nor  fears  the  angry  sea  ; 

He  shuns  the  Forum,  and  the  portals  proud 
Of  powerful  citizens. 

Therefore  he  either  trains  to  poplars  high 
Phe  robust  shoots  of  vines  j 
Oi  he  surveys  the  herds  of  lowing*  kinc 
Straying  in  vale  remote  ; 

And,  lopping  useless  branches  with  his  knife. 
More  fruitful  ones  engrafts  ; 

Or  in  pure  vessels  the  press’d  honey  hoards  ; 

Or  shears  the  tender  sheep. 

When  in  the  fields  doth  Autumn  rear  his  head, 
Adorned  with  mellow  fruits. 

How  he  rejoices,  plucking  grafted  pears 
And  purple-vying  grapes, 
hor  thee,  Priapus,  and,  Silvanus  old, 

Guardian  of  bounds,  for  thee. 


■*  ^ 


194 


THE  EPODES. 


Now  he  delights  ’neath  an  old  oak  to  lie, 

Now  in  the  tangled  grass  ; 

Meanwhile  the  rivers  glide  ’twixt  lofty  banks, 

The  birds  sing  in  the  woods. 

The  fountains  murmur  with  their  trickling  streams. 
Which  gentle  sleep  invite. 

Hut  when  the  wint’ry  time  of  thund’ring  Jove 
The  rain  and  snow  brings  down, 

Either  with  many  dogs  the  fierce  wild  boars 
He  drives  to  snaring  toils. 

Or  fine-meshed  nets  with  slender  pole  he  spreads, 
A  trap  for  greedy  thrush. 

And  takes  the  trembling  hare  and  stranger  crane 
With  snare,  delightful  prize  ! 

Who,  ’mid  such  sports,  does  not  forget  his  woes 
And  all  the  cares  of  love  ? 

Hut  if  chaste  wife  on  her  part  helps  to  keep 
His  home  and  children  sweet, 

(Such  as  a  Sabine  dame,  or  sun-burnt  spouse 
Of  an  Apulian  stout,) 

And  piles  the  sacred  hearth  with  ancient  logs 
To  meet  her  wearied  mate ; 

And  shutting  pastured  herds  in  wattled  pens, 
Drains  their  distended  teats  ; 

And,  drawing  this  year’s  wine  from  vessel  pure. 
Dainties  unbought  prepares. 

The  Lucrine  oysters  could  not  me  delight. 

Nor  turbot  more,  nor  char, 

If  stormy  winter  from  the  Eastern  waves 
Hring  any  to  this  sea. 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Not  Afric’s  bird  shall  in  my  paunch  descend, 

Not  the  Ionian  snipe, 

More  welcome  than  the  olive  gathered  in 
From  richest  boughs  of  trees. 
Mead-loving  sorrel,  or  the  mallow  sweet 
Which  sickly  body  soothes  ; 

Or  lamb  slain  at  the  feast  of  Terminus, 

Or  kid  from  wolf  escaped. 

’Mid  feasts  like  these  how  it  delights  to  see 
The  well-fed  sheep  haste  home  ; 

To  see  the  wearied  ox  with  languid  neck 
Drawing  inverted  plough  ; 

And  slaves  drawn  up,  proof  of  a  rich  man’s  house. 
The  shining  Lares  round. — 

When  this  the  usurer  Alfius  had  said, 

A  rustic  soon  to  be, ' 

Mis  coin  he  called  in  at  the  Ides,  yet  seeks 
In  Kalends  to  put  out. 


1 96 


the  epodes. 


EPODE  IV. 
•Against  Menas. 


u 


(( 


(( 


(( 


a 


|ATRED  as  deep  as  Nature  plants 

’Twixt  wolves  and  lambs  I  bear  to  thee, 
M^hose  back  with  Spanish  ropes  is  scored, 

And  shanks  have  cruel  fetters  worn. 

Tho’,  proud  of  pelf,  you  strut  along. 

Your  fortune  cannot  change  your  breed. 
When,  swaggering  through  the  Sacred  Way, 

In  toga  twice  three  ells  in  width, 

Can  you  not  see  how  boiling  rage 
The  face  of  all  who  pass  averts  ? 

This  wretch,”  they  cry,  “  triumvir’s  whips 
“  Have  lash’d  till  e’en  the  crier  was  sick. 

Yet  now  a  thousand  acres  ploughs 
“  Of  rich  Falernian  soil.  His  nags 
Wear  out  the  Appian  Way.  As  knight 
“  In  foremost  place  he  sits,  despite 
Of  Otho’s  law.  How  happens  it 
“  So  many  beaks  of  pond’rous  ships 
’Gainst  thieves  and  servile  band  are  led, 

And  yet  a  wretched  knave  like  this 
A  military  tribune  is  ?  ” 


(< 


(( 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


< 

( 

( 

( 

EPODE  VI. 

A  (;  A  I  N  s  T  Cassius  S  e  v  e  r  u  s  . 


«H  frightened  cur,  if  wolves  be  near, 

Why  dost  thou  harmless  strangers  fright  ? 
Come,  turn  on  me  thy  braggart  bark. 

And  dare  at  me  again  to  bite  ! 

Like  Spartan  or  Molussian  hound, 

Pdrm  friend  to  shepherds  in  their  need. 

Thro’  the  deep  snows  with  ears  erect, 

I  track  the  hated  wild  beast’s  lead. 

With  fearsome  howls  thou  fill’st  the  grove. 

Or  for  rejected  food  dost  fawn  ; 

Beware  !  beware  !  ’gainst  villains  fierce 
I  rush  like  bull  with  lowered  horn. 

Like  proud  Lycambes’  would-be  son. 

Or  Bupalus’  keen  enemy. 

If  envious  tooth  at  me  should  gnash. 

Shall  I  like  puling  infant  cry  ? 


THE  EPODES 


EPODE  VII. 

To  THE  Roman  People. 


HITHER!  oh  whither!  wicked,  do  ye  rush? 
Why  do  your  hands 

Grasp  swonis  late  hid  ? 

Has  then  too  little  of  the  Latin  blood  upon  the  lands 

And  seas  been  shed  ? 

Not  that  the  turrets  proud  of  hated  Carthage  Romans 
may 

Destroy  by  flame  ! 

Not  that  the  yet  unconquered  Briton  down  the  Sacred 
Way 

In  chains  may  come  ! 

But  by  her  own  right  hand  this  City  may  to  ruin  speed, 

As  Parthians  long  ! 

Not  such  the  custom  e’en  of  wolves,  save  ’gainst 
another  breed. 

Nor  lions  strong. 

Does  then  blind  frenzy,  still  more  savage  force,  or  sin 
accurst 

Upon  you  seize? 


199 


ODES  OE  HORACE. 

They  speak  not  !  O’er  their  countenance  the  ashy 
pallors  burst, 

Their  stunn’d  souls  freeze  ! 

Thus  is  it  !  Bitter  Fates  and  awful  sin  of  fratricide 

Must  Rome  atone, 

Since  with  the  blood  of  Remus  innocent  the  earth  was 
dyed. 

And  curses  sown  ! 


20'C 


^ 


% 


THE  EPODES. 


e:pode  XIII. 

To  My  P'  r  I  e  n  d  s  . 


4  FEARP'UL  tempest  hath  o’erspread  the  sky, 
jlIl  From  heaven  the  showers  and  snows  descend 
And  now  the  woods  resound,  and  now  the  sea. 

Under  the  northern  blasts  of  Thracian  wind. 

Seize  then,  oh  friends,  th’  occasion  of  the  day. 

And  whilst  ’tis  fitting  and  our  knees  are  firm. 

Let  age  with  clouded  brow  be  driven  away. 

Bring  forth  the  wines  pressed  in  the  distant  term 
When  my  Torquatus  consul  was.  Forbear 

Aught  else  to  speak  of ;  for  perchance  the  God, 

By  happy  change,  may  yet  our  bliss  restore. 

Now  it  delights  me  with  the  Persian  nard 
To  be  bedewed,  and  with  Cyllenean  string 
My  bosom  to  relieve  from  cares  forlorn. 

To  his  great  pupil  thus  did  Chiron  sing  : — 

“  All-conqu’ring  mortal  !  boy  of  Thetis  born  ! 

“  Assaracus’  domain  now  thee  awaits, 

“  Which  small  Scamander  cleaves  with  frigid  stream, 
“And  Simois  swift  ;  from  whose  realm  the  P'ates 

“  Have  snapp’d  the  thread  of  thy  return  ;  nor  dream 
“  That  thee  thine  azure  mother  back  can  bear 
“  To  home  again.  Then  manfully  dispel, 

“  By  wine  and  soothing  song,  detested  care, 

“  And  by  sweet  conversation  sorrow  quell 


20  I 


1 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


KPODE  XIV. 
To  Maecenas 


'AECENAS  kind,  thou  killest  me 

By  asking  oft  why  sloth  should  steep 
My  inmost  sense  with  gentle  power, 

And  lull  me  in  oblivion  deep  ; 

As  tho’  with  thirsty  throat  I’d  quaffed 
The  cups  which  bring  Lethean  sleep  ; 
Commenced  iambics  to  complete 

The  God  !  the  God  !  now  me  doth  keep, 
Altho’  an  Ode  I  promised  thee. 

Thus,  say  they,  did  Anacreon  weep. 

The  Teian  bard,  for  Bathyllus, 

A  Samian  youth,  and  oft  did  heap 
Song  upon  song  to  hollow  shell 

In  careless  rhyme.  So  o’er  thee  creep 
The  fires  of  love.  Yet  still  rejoice 
If  flames  more  ardent  did  not  leap 
O’er  Troy  beseiged.  Now,  not  content. 

Fair  Phryne,  one  love  holding  cheap. 

That  girl  from  serfdom  lately  freed. 

My  love  is  seeking  still  to  keep. 


202 


THE  EFODES. 


EPODE  XV. 
To  N  E  A  E  R  A  . 


night.  In  sky  serene  amid  the  lesser  stars 
A  Bri  ght  shone  the  moon  above  ; 

When  thou,  so  soon  t’  eternal  Gods  to  be  forsworn, 
Vowed  in  my  words  of  love  ; 

Thy  tender  arms,  like  ivy  to  the  lofty  oak. 

Close  clinging  to  my  breast ; 

So  long  as  howling  wolves  strike  terror  into  sheep. 

So  long  as  sailors’  rest 

Shall  be  disturbed  by  him  who  lashes  ocean  wave, 

Orion,  curse  of  sea  ; 

So  long  as  breezes  fan  Apollo’s  locks  unshorn  ; 

Our  love  should  constant  be. 

Oh  false  Neaera  !  thus  to  try  my  fortitude. 

If  Flaccus  manhood  hath, 

Think’st  thou  he’ll  bear  thy  constant  love  to  other  given. 
And  still  restrain  his  wrath  ? 

To  adverse  fortune  ne’er  his  steadfast  soul  shall  yield, 
Altho’  pierced  thro’  by  grief  I 
And  thou  !  more  blest  than  I,  who  proudly  struttest  now. 
My  sorrow  thy  relief ; 


203 


y-' 


ODES  OF  HORACE. 


Altho’  thou  may’st  be  rich  in  flocks  and  spreading  land, 
For  thee  Pactolus  flow, 

To  thee  Pythagoras’  immortal  lore  be  known. 

Fairer  than  Nireus  grow  ! 

Alas  !  mine  enemy,  thou  shalt  lament  ere  long 
Her  love  to  rival  given  ! 

Then  in  my  turn  again  I  at  thy  grief  shall  laugh. 

Swift  hurled  by  fate  from  heaven  ! 


204 


THE  KPODKS. 


EPODE  XVI. 

T  O  T  H  E  R  O  MAN  P  E  O  PEE. 


ll^OW  is  another  age  wasted  in  civil  wars, 

And  Rome,  by  her  own  fury,  headlong  falls  ! 

She  whom  nor  could  the  neighboring  Marsi  e’er  destroy, 
Nor  threat’ning  Porsena’s  Etruscan  band  ; 

Nor  Capua’s  rival  might ;  nor  rapid  Spartacus  ; 

Nor  Switzer  faithless  to  repeated  oaths  ; 

Nor  fierce  Germania  with  her  blue-eyed  youth  subdue  ; 

Nor  Hannibal  detested  by  our  sires. 

Oh  impious  age  !  Blood-stained,  ourselves  do  we  destroy, 
Wild  beasts  shall  seize  upon  this  land  again. 

Alas  !  a  barb’rous  victor  on  its  ashes  stands. 

The  City  rings  with  courser’s  sounding  hoofs. 

And  bones  of  Romulus,  yet  free  from  wind  and  sun, 
(Unlawful  to  behold  !)  he,  scornful,  spreads  ! 

Perchance  ye  all,  or  better  part,  may  long  to  know 
How  best  these  awful  troubles  to  escape  ? 

Than  this  advice  none  better.  As  the  citizens 
Of  Phocis  fled  with  execrations  deep. 

And  left  their  lands,  their  country’s  Lares,  and  their  fanes. 
By  boars  and  rav’ning  wolves  to  be  possessed  ; 


20 


ODES  OF  HORACE.  ) 

Where’er  our  feet  may  bear  us  let  us  go  !  Where  call  ! 

South  wind  or  stormy  South-west  thro’  the  waves.  j 

Does  this  then  please  you  ?  Or  who  better  counsel  gives  ?  | 

To  sail  with  prosp’rous  omen,  why  delay?  | 

But  first  swear  thus  : — “So  soon  as  stones  shall  upward  float  ? 

“  From  ocean’s  depths,  ’tis  lawful  to  return  ;  \ 

“  Nor  homeward  then  to  spread  our  sails  may  we  regret,  | 

“  When  Po  shall  lave  Matinus’  lofty  peaks,  s 

“  Or  the  huge  Apenninc  shall  rush  down  to  the  sea  ; 

“  When  monstrous  beasts  a  new-born  love  unites  ; 

“  When  tigers  shall  delight  with  timid  hinds  to  mate  ; 

“  And  by  the  kite  the  dove  polluted  be  : 

“  WTen  simple  deer  no  more  rapacious  lions  fear, 

“  And  goats,  grown  smooth,  the  briny  waters  love.” 

These,  and  whatever  vows  our  sweet  return  can  bar,  j 

< 

Let  us,  and  all  the  city,  haste  away  ;  | 

Or  those  superior  to  the  thoughtless  mob.  Let  sloth  | 

And  hopelessness  ill-omen’d  couches  press.  < 

Ye,  who  have  valour  still,  laments  effeminate  ; 

( 

.Suppress,  and  fly  beyond  th’  Etruscan  shores.  I 

Us  ocean  tossing  round  awaits.  Seek  we  the  lands, —  ! 

The  happy  lands,  and  islands  of  the  blest,  ; 

Where  every  year  the  soil  untillcd  produces  corn,  ; 

And  unpruned  vineyards  blossom  still  for  aye  ; 

Where  still  the  branch  of  never-failing  olive  blooms. 

And  russet  fig  her  native  tree  adorns. 

Where  honey  oozes  from  the  hollow  oak.  Where  leap 
The  streams  from  lofty  hills  with  murm’ring  flow. 

There  to  the  milk-pails  the  she-goats  unbidden  come. 

And  friendly  herds  return  with  swoll’n  teats. 


^  N 


206 


THE  EPODES. 


Nor  does  the  nightly  bear  around  the  sheep-folds  growl, 
Nor  do  the  hills  with  deadly  vipers  swarm. 

Happy,  much  more  shall  we  admire  !  How  nor  the  fields 
With  heavy  showers  the  rainy  East-wind  lays, 

Nor  in  the  sun-scorch’d  soil  are  fruitful  seeds  burnt  up. 

For  both  are  tempered  by  the  King  of  Heaven. 

Not  hither  did  the  ship  with  Argive  rowing  steer, 

Nor  did  the  wanton  Colchian  set  her  foot  ; 

Not  hither  did  Sidonian  sailors  turn  their  beaks. 

Nor  of  Ulysses  the  laborious  crew. 

By  no  contagions  are  the  fiocks  destroyed.  The  herds 
By  blazing  fury  of  no  star  are  scorched  : 

But  for  a  pious  race  this  shore  did  Jove  design. 

When  he  debased  the  Golden  Age  with  brass, — 

With  brass,  then  hardened  it  with  steel,  whence  prosp’rous 
flight 

Unto  the  good  is  given  ; — thus  I  foretell. 


FINIS. 


N  0  T  E  S. 

BOOK  I  . 


ODE  II. 

“Late  may’st  thou  to  the  Gods  arise.’* 

Observe  the  suddenness  of  the  transition.  The  poet  has  invoked 
all  the  Gods  who  were  believed  to  take  a  special  interest  in  the  Roman 
race.  He  now  suddenly  invokes  Augustus  as  a  God  himself,  descended 
from  the  heavens  to  restore  the  prosperity  of  Rome,  and  even  now  a 
fitting  object  of  worship  on  the  part  of  a  grateful  people.  Courtly 
adulation  could  hardly  reach  a  further  limit. 


ODE  V. 

“  With  scents  bedewed,  what  silly  boy.” 

Milton  translates  “  gracilis,”  “  slender  —  its  usual  signification. 
I  have  ventured  to  differ  with  him  and  other  translators  in  rendering 
this  word  “  silly.”  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  poet  meant  to  refer 
to  the  slenderness  of  the  infatuated  youth’s  mind,  rather  than  to  that 
of  his  body.  And  the  other  epithets  applied  to  him  in  the  ode, 
strengthen  me  in  this  opinion.  He  is  called  “insolens,”  “  credulus,” 
and  “  nescius,”  all  meant  to  denote  his  lack  of  ordinary  wisdom  and 
foresight. 


NOTES. 


ODE  VI. 

“  Fierce  in  appearance,  but  with  close-pared  nails.” 

“  Scctis  unguibus”  might  be  rendered,  “with  sharpened  nails;” 
in  which  case  the  girls,  whose  battles  the  poet  relates,  might  have  been 
really  formidable  antagonists.  I  have  preferred  the  rendering  in  my 
text,  because  it  seems  to  me  that  the  object  is  to  accentuate  the  contrast 
between  the  battles  of  heroes,  of  which  Varius  sings,  and  the  mimic 
warfare  which  alone  Horace  represents  himself  as  capable  of  recording. 


O  D  E  V  I  I  . 

“  Let  others  sing  of  sunny  Rhodes.” 

I  have  translated  “  clarus  ”  here  as  “  sunny,”  rather  than  as 
“  famous,”  or  “  renowned.”  Either  rendering  is  correct,  but  my  reason 
for  preferring  the  former  is,  that  in  the  same  verse,  the  scenic  rather 
than  the  historical  features  of  C’orinth  are  referred  to,  whilst  the  mere 
mention  of  Thessalian  Tempe  conjures  up  a  vision  of  natural  beauty. 
The  poet  then  proceeds  to  compare  the  rushing  stream,  the  waving 
orchards,  and  the  shady  groves  of  his  beloved  Tivoli  with  the  most 
celebrated  places  in  other  countries. 


ODE  XI. 

“  Consult  not  thou  the  Babylonian  seer.” 

Literally  “  the  Babylonian  numbers.”  I  have  ventured  to  take 
this  liberty  with  the  text.  Doubtless  Leuconoe  might  have  tried  to  tell 
her  own  fortune,  but  more  probably  she  would  have  consulted  some 
“  wise  man  ”  or  “  wise  woman.” 

I  have  been  obliged  to  expand  this  ode  from  two  stanzas  to  three, 
as  I  could  not  compress  its  pregnant  sense  into  less  space. 


2.10 


NOTES. 


ODE  XII, 


“  Oh  Clio  !  whom  of  heroes  or  of  men.” 


It  would  have  been  very  easy  to  have  cast  this  ode  in  rythmic 
form,  but  I  could  not  do  it  to  my  satisfaction.  Nothing  can  exceed  the 
simple  dignity  of  its  diction,  and  to  have  departed  from  the  poet’s  own 
language  would,  in  my  opinion,  have  been  to  destroy  all  the  severe 
beauty  of  the  ode.  It  has  but  one  fault,  and  that  is  its  ending.  I  can 
only  conclude  that  the  weakness  of  the  closing  lines  arises  from  the 
fact  that  the  poet  had  become  exhausted  by  a  mighty  and  sustained 
effort. 


ODE  XIII. 


“  Quintessence  of  her  charms.” 


The  literal  rendering  would  have  been,  “  the  fifth  part  ”  whilst 
the  word  I  have  used  may  be  taken  to  mean  charms  five  times  distilled. 
I  do  not  think,  however,  my  rendering  does  violence  to  the  Poet’s 
meaning.  He  certainly  intends  to  express  intense  admiration  of  his 
mistress’  beauty. 


ODE  XV. 

“  And  songs  recite  dear  to  each  tender  maid 
“  To  harp  unwarlike.” 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  “divides’  might  have  been  better 
translated,  “  accompany  ;  ” — “  You  accompany  your  effeminate  songs 
with  the  unwarlike  harp.”  The  idea  would  then  be  that  the  strains  of 
the  instrument  filled  up  the  pauses  in  the  song,  and  so  “  divided  ”  the 
notes  uttered  by  the  voice. 


2  l  T 


NOTES. 


ODE  XVII. 

“  For  fair  Lucretilis  doth  Faunus  swift 
“  Lycaeus  oft  desert.” 

This  sentence  reads  the  other  way,  and  speaks  of  Faunus 
changing  Lucretilis  for  Lycaeus.  I  think,  however,  I  have  given  the 
true  meaning  of  the  Poet.  There  are  other  instances  in  which  he  seems 
to  say  just  the  opposite  to  what  he  means.  Thus: — “  Who  first  attuned 
to  Grecian  measures  Latin  song.”  (Book  III,  Ode  30).  This  sentence 
reads  the  reverse  in  the  original,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  I  have 
given  the  rendering  intended.  Again  :  -  “  Should  change  Calabria’s 
burning  star  for  mild  Lucania’s  verdant  fields.”  (Epode  1.)  Surely  the 
Poet  did  not  intend  to  represent  it  as  an  advantage  that  his  flocks 
should  be  driven  in  midsummer  from  the  shady  slopes  of  Lucania  to  the 
parched  plains  of  Calabria. 

”  The  he-goat’s  wand’ring  wives.” 

The  scholar  will  forgive  the  softening  of  a  translation  in  this  and 
several  other  instances  to  which  I  need  not  more  particularly  refer,  in  a 
work  intended  for  general  readers. 


ODE  XX. 

“  Poor  Sabine  wine  from  goblets  small.” 

I  am  reminded  of  Mr.  Bernal  Osborne’s  playful  rendering  of  this 
passage,  when  the  proposition  was  first  introduced  by  the  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  to  reduce  the  duty  on  French  wines  to  one  shilling  per 
gallon  •, — 

'•  You  shall  drink  thin  French  claret,  and  very  little  of  it.  ” 


ODE  XXI. 

This  Ode  would  seem  to  be  a  direction  to  the  chorus  of  youths 
and  maidens  by  whom  the  Saecular  Hymn  was  to  be  sung,  as  to  the 
mode  in  which  their  service  was  to  be  conducted. 


NOT^S. 

ODE  XXIV. 

‘‘  Sleeps  then  Quinctilius  in  eternal  death  ?  ” 

Nothing  can  bring  more  vividly  before  us  the  hopelessness  of  a 
pagan’s  death  than  this  Ode.  Nothing  can  give  stronger  point  to  the 
words  of  St.  Paul ; — “  If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Chuist,  we  are 
of  all  men  most  miserable.”  (i  Cor.,  xv,  19).  Modesty,  Faith,  Justice, 
Truth  ;  and,  probably,  in  the  dear  friend  of  two  such  men  as  Virgil  and 
Horace,  Intellect  and  Poetic  Genius,  had  all  combined  in  the  accom¬ 
plished  youth  whose  death  is  here  deplored.  Yet  the  Poet  can  picture 
no  hope,  no  happiness  for  him  beyond  the  grave.  He  is  driven  by  the 
relentless  God,  amid  a  despairing  throng  of  nameless  dead,  to  the 
gloomy  realms  of  everlasting  night. 


ODE  XXV. 

I  was  very  loath  to  omit  anything  in  the  writings  of  Horace  that 
I  could  help.  I  have  therefore  given  what  I  could  of  this  ode,  softening 
as  much  as  I  could  render,  and  omitting  what  I  could  not  soften. 


ODE  XXVIII. 

“  Pythagoras  sent  back  to  shades  below 
“  Orcus  contains,  altho’  Euphorbus’  shield 
Retaken,  Troy  recalled.” 

The  literal  translation  is  ;  —  “  Tartarus  holds  the  son  of  Panthus, 
again  sent  back  to  Hades,  although  the  shield  taken  down  bore  witness 
of  Trojan  times.”  This  seemed  to  me  somewhat  obscure,  and  I  have 
therefore  ventured  to  give  the  free  rendering  in  the  text.  Pythagoras, 
as  is  well  known,  taught  the  doctrine  of  the  transmigration  of  souls, 
and  asserted  that  he  himself  was  animated  by  that  of  Euphorbus,  the 
son  of  Panthus,  a  Trojan  Prince.  In  proof  of  his  assertion,  he  entered 
the  temple  of  Juno  at  Mycenae,  (where  he  had  never  been  before),  and 
going  straight  to  the  shrine,  took  down  the  shield  of  Euphorbus  from 
amongst  numerous  other  trophies  which  adorned  its  walls. 


NOTES. 

ODE  XXXIV. 

“  For  the  God-Father,  who  oft-times  divides 
“  With  flashing  fire  the  clouds,  thro’  clear  sky  now 
“  llis  thund’ring  coursers  and  swift  chariot  guides.” 

The  poet  describes  his  own  conversion  from  the  Epicurean  school 
of  philosophy,  through  having  witnessed  the  phenomenon  of  thunder 
and  lightning  in  a  cloudless  sky.  I  fear  his  conversion  was  almost 
as  short-lived  as  the  flash  and  roar  which  frightened  him  for  the 
moment.  Compare  — 

“  From  dense  dark  clouds  reared  mass  o’er  mass  sublime 
“  Spring  then  those  missile  fires.  In  sky  serene 
“  Such  ne’er  we  mark.” 


ODE  XXXVI. 

“  Safe  returned  from  distant  Spain.” 

By  Hesperia  is  usually  meant  Italy,  as  in  Book  II.,  Ode  i. ; 
Book  III.,  Ode  6.  To  the  Greeks,  Italy  was  Hesperia, — “the  land  of 
the  West.”  To  the  Romans,  Spain  occupied  that  position,  being  called 
as  in  the  text,  “Hesperia  ultima;” — “the  far  West.”  Orelli  thus 
explains  the  Poet’s  meaning  in  the  present  Ode ; — “  Hispania,  ultima 
Occidentem  versus  regio.” 

O 


BOOK  II. 


ODE  I  . 

“And  of  its  chieftains’  compact  stern.” 

An  allusion  to  the  compact  made  between  Octavius,  Marc 
Antony,  and  Lepidus,  on  the  formation  of  the  second  triumvirate,  when 


NOTES. 


each  sacrificed  some  of  his  best  and  dearest  friends  to  the  hatred  of  the 
others.  The  cruel  bargain  is  shortly  described  by  Shakespeare  :  — 

Antony.  —  “These  many  then  shall  die  ;  their  names  are  prick’d.” 

Octavius. — “  Your  brother  too  must  die.  Consent  you,  Lepidus?” 

Lepidus. —  “  I  do  consent.” 

Octavius.  —  “  Prick  him  down,  Antony.” 

Lepidus. —  “  Upon  condition  Publius  shall  not  live,  who  is  your 
sister’s  son,  Marc  Antony.” 

Antony. —  “  He  shall  not  live.  Look,  with  a  spot  I  damn  him.” 

^ul.  Cacs.,  Act  iv.,  Sc.  I. 

“  Your  tragic  studies  now  awhile  abate.” 

The  reader  will  notice  that  the  whole  of  this  stanza  is  freely 
translated.  A  close  translation  would  hardly  have  conveyed  its  true 
meaning,  paradoxical  as  that  may  seem. 


ODE  III. 

“  Sooner  or  later  by  the  boat.” 

Literally: — “Embarked  on  board  the  boat  for  eternal  exile.” 
The  dead  were  supposed  to  be  ferried  across  the  Styx  to  the  Kingdom 
of  Pluto  by  Charon. 


ODE  V. 

“  Than  fading  Pholoe.” 

“  Fugax  ”  is  here  generally  translated  “  coy,”  or  “shy.”  I  prefer 
the  rendering  I  have  given,  because  I  think  that  Horace  meant  to 
contrast  the  fresh  young  beauty  of  Lalage  with  the  over-ripe  charms  of 
Pholoe  and  Chloris,  who  had  probably  already,  in  his  opinion,  reigned 
too  long  as  queens  of  love. 


NOTES. 


ODE  VII. 

“  Pompey,  thou  dearest  of  my  friends.” 

The  person  here  addressed  is  Pompeius  Varus,  a  friend  of  the 
poet’s,  who  had  served  with  him  in  the  army  of  Brutus  and  Cassius. 


ODE  XIV. 

*•  Your  land,  your  home,  your  well-beloved  wife.” 

The  oft-quoted  expression  “  placens  uxor,”  though  strictly 
meaning  only  “pleasing  wife,”  seemed  to  me  to  require  a  stronger 
rendering  to  convey  the  intensity,  so  to  speak,  which  the  epithet  derives 
from  the  Latin. 


ODE  XVI. 

“  What  exile  from  himself  can  fly  ?  ” 

There  is  a  whole  poem  in  this  short  sentence.  Byron  could  not 
improve,  though  he  amplifies  the  thought.  He  uses  the  very  words  of 
Horace  in  the  lines  : — 

“  What  exile  from,  himself  can  flee 
“To  Zones  tho’  more  and  more  remote  ? 

“  Still,  still,  pursues  where’er  I  be, 

“The  blight  of  life — the  demon  Thought ! 

Cliilde  Harold,  Canto  1.,  To  Inez. 


ODE  XVIII. 

“  In  Sabine  farm  content  remain.’’ 

I  believe  “satis”  is  now  generally  rendered  in  this  passage  as 
the  participle  of  “  sero ;  ”  and  would  therefore  mean,  “that  which  is 
sown,”  i.e.,  a  farm.  So  Virgil; — 

“  Dabit  file  ruinas 

“  Arboribus,  stragemque  satis.”  Aencid  xii.,  454. 

“  It  (the  storm)  will  bring  ruin  to  the  trees  and  destruction  to  the  crops.” 


NOTES. 


BOOK  III. 


ODE  I  . 

“  I  hate  and  drive  from  me  the  crowd  profane.” 

This  glorious  ode  would  seem  to  have  been  written  as  an  intro¬ 
duction  to  the  Saecular  Hymn. 

“  Nor  unproductive  soil.” 

“Fundus  mendax,”  literally  “lying  soil;”  that  soil  in  which 
the  ripening  fruit  does  not  fulfil  the  promise  of  the  plentiful  blossoms. 
This  stanza  I  found  difficult  to  render  to  my  satisfaction.  I  have  taken 
it  in  the  sense  that  the  contented  man  so  remains,  notwithstanding  the 
failure  of  his  fruit-crop,  for  which  both  soil  and  tree  offer  a  series  of 
lame  excuses. 


ODE  II. 


“  Pursues.” 


“  The  coward  Death 


Compare  Shakspeare  Cowards  die  many  times  before  their 
deaths.”  Jul.  Cues.  Act  ii..  Sc.  2. 


“  I  refuse 

“  The  man  who  rites  of  Ceres  dread 
“  Dares  to  divulge,  my  house  to  use.” 

My  Masonic  brethren  will  see  in  these  lines  a  reference  to  those 
ancient  mysteries,  derived  from  Egypt  and  Eleusis,  which  they  claim  as 
the  origin  of  their  own  mystic  rites. 


NOTES. 


ODE  III 


‘  ‘  And  hated  grandson  who  was  born 
“  Of  Trojan  priestess.” 

Romulus,  being  the  son  of  Mars,  was  the  grandson  of  Juno. 
His  mother,  Rhea  Silvia,  was  of  course  of  Trojan  descent.  Hence 
Juno  at  first  bears  against  him  the  same  inveterate  hostility  which  she 
had  ever  shewn  against  the  whole  Trojan  race.  She  forgives  him, 
however,  because  he  has  not  attempted  to  restore  the  ruins  of  detested 
Troy,  but  has  founded  a  new  and  mightier  empire  in  far  distant  Italy. 
At  length,  therefore,  she  consents  to  his  taking  his  place  amongst  the 
immortal  Gods  under  the  name  of  Quirinus. 


ODE  IV. 


“  Nor  routed  host  at  Philippi, 

“  Nor  tree  accurst,  nor  sad  mischance 
”  Of  Palinurus  injured  me.” 

Horace,  having  referred  to  his  miraculous  escape  from  death 
when,  as  a  child,  he  had  strayed  far  from  home  and  fallen  asleep  on  the 
lofty  height  of  Vultur,  here  enumerates  the  three  great  perils  through 
which  his  otherwise  peaceful  life  had  passed.  First,  the  battle  of  Philippi, 
from  which  his  constitutional  timidity  had  caused  him  to  11}%  “  relicta 
non  bene  parmula.”  This  episode  is  related  in  the  Ode  to  Pompey 
(Book  IT,  Ode  7).  Secondly,  the  plane  tree  which  nearly  fell  upon  him 
whilst  sitting  or  walking  in  his  own  grounds,  to  which  he  frequently 
refers  and  roundly  abuses  in  the  Ode  to  a  Tree  (Book  II  ,  Ode  i3'>. 
And  lastly,  his  having  fallen  overboard  whilst  on  a  voyage,  referred  to 
in  Archytas  (Book  I.,  Ode  28).  This  accident  befel  the  poet  in  the  Gulf 
of  Velia,  when  accompanying  the  expedition  against  Sextus  Pompey. 


“  The  burning  sands  of  Syria’s  shore.” 

Assyria  was  an  inland  country.  Probably  the  exigencies  of  the 
metre  led  the  poet  to  use  the  word.  He  must  liavejmeant  Syria. 


218 


1 


NOTES. 

ODE  V. 

“  Have  Crassus’  soldiers  lived  with  barb’rous  mates  ?  ” 

An  allusion  to  the  defeat  and  capture  of  the  army  of  Crassus  by 
the  Parthians,  under  Monaeses  or  Surenas,  at  the  battle  of  Carrhae. 
The  remnant  of  this  army  was  settled  as  a  small  colony  in  the  country  of 
their  conquerors.  This  defeat  is  also  referred  to  in  the  next  Ode, 
— “  Twice  have  Monaeses,”  &c. 

“  'I'his  our  home 

“  From  daimer  free.” 

O 

Incolumi  Jove.”  The  name  of  the  king  of  heaven  is  not 
unfrequently  used  by  poets  to  signify  the  expanse  of  heaven  itself. 
Thus  : — “  sub  Jove  frigido,”  “  under  the  frosty  sky  ”  (Book  I.,  Ode  I). 
Again,  “  Positas  ut  glaciet  nives  puro  numine  Jupiter  ;  ”  “  How^  Jupiter 
shines  on  the  fallen  snows  wdth  his  pure  influence”  (Book  III., 
Ode  lo).  And  again,  “  Nostro  Jovi ;  ”  “  to  our  own  sky  ”  (Book  IV., 
Ode  15).  “  Jupiter  pluvius  ”  is  a  more  trite  illustration. 


ODE  VI. 

“  Their  former  scanty  honours  to  enlarge.” 

“  Torquibus  exiguis.  ”  Literally,  “  to  their  scanty  torques.”  An 
allusion  to  the  thin  twisted  collars  of  gold  or  other  precious  metal  worn 
by  savage  chieftains,  a  custom  which  prevailed  with  the  ancient  Britons 
amongst  others. 


ODE  VII. 

“  To  ope  thine  house  at  night’s  approach  refrain.” 

Shakspeare  must  surely  have  read  Horace.  He  gives  us  not 
merely  the  same  thought,  but  almost  the  very  words  in  the  followdng 
passage  : — 


NOTliS. 


“  Lock  up  my  doors ;  and  when  you  hear  the  drum 
“  And  the  vile  squealing  of  the  wry-neck’d  fife, 

“  Clamber  not  you  up  to  the  casements  then, 

“Nor  thrust  your  head  into  the  public  street.” 

Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  ii..  Sc.  5. 


ODE  VIII. 


“  The  pitch-held  cork.” 

The  wine-jars  were  sealed  with  rosin  or  pitch,  and  the  maturity 
of  the  wine  was  hastened  by  hanging  up  the  jars  over  a  smoky  fire 
See  the  description  of  the  feast  of  Glaucus,  in  the  late  Lord  Lytton’s 
“  Last  Days  of  Pompeii  ”  (Chap.  3). 


ODE  X. 

“  Think  how  the  rope  may  slip  upon  the  wheel 
“  And  backward  run.” 

This  figure  would  seem  to  be  taken  from  the  draw-well.  The 
rope  to  which  the  bucket  or  vessel  was  attached  passed  over  a  grooved 
wheel,  by  turning  which  the  vessel  was  raised  or  lowered. 


ODE  XI. 

“  One  of  the  many,  splendidly  untrue,  ’ 

Hypermnestra.  Does  a  forgetful  world  need  reminding  of  the 
name  of  her  who  was  “  splendide  mendax  ?  ” 


220 


NOTES. 


ODE  XIV. 

“  Maids  too  young  to  wed.” 

I  have  of  course  followed  Dr.  Milman’s  reading  of  this  passage, 
which  is  “  Puellae  non  virum  expertae.”  “  Girls  having  no  experience 
of  husbands.'’  Conington  says,  “  Damsels  newly  wed.”  But  I 
presume  he  takes  Orelli’s  reading,  which  is,  ”  Puellae  jam  virum 
expertae.”  Other  readings  have  ”  expertes,”  deriving  the  word  from 
“  expers,”  instead  of  from  ”  expertus.”  In  either  case  I  think  the  meaning 
is  this.  The  poet  has  called  on  the  wife  and  sister  of  the  Emperor,  and 
upon  the  mothers,  whose  anxieties  have  been  ended  by  the  safe  return  of 
their  dear  ones  from  the  Spanish  war,  to  offer  their  grateful  prayers  and 
sacrifices  to  the  Gods.  He  then  turns  to  the  young  and  thoughtless, 
who  have  not  yet  learnt  what  care  is,  and  exhorts  them  not  to  mar  the 
solemn  occasion  by  ill-timed  merriment. 

”  And  wine  coeval  with  the  Marsian  war.” 

The  Marsian  or  Social  War  broke  out  in  the  year  B.C.  91 ;  the 
return  of  Augustus  from  his  Spanish  Expedition  took  place  B.C.  23. 
The  wine  which  the  poet  proposes  to  drink  to  the  honour  of  his 
imperial  friend  must  therefore  have  been  68  years  old. 


ODE  XXVII. 

“  Does  a  phantom  me 

“  Deceive  which,  flying  from  the  iv’ry  gate, 

•  ‘  Comes  in  my  sleep  ?  ” 

“  Sunt  geminae  Somni  portae  :  quarum  altera  fertur 

“  Cornea,  qua  veris  facilis  datur  exitus  umbris  ; 

‘  ‘  Altera  candenti  perfecta  nitens  elephanto  ; 

”  Sed  falsa  ad  coelum  mittunt  insomnia  manes.” 

Virgil,  Aeneid  vi,  894-7. 

“There  are  twin  gates  of  Sleep;  of  which  the  one  is  said  to  be 
of  horn,  by  which  easy  exit  is  given  to  true  shadows  :  the  other,  shining 
beauteous  with  white  ivory,  but  the  spirits  send  (through  it)  false  dreams 
to  the  upper  air.” 


NOTES. 


ODE  XXVIII. 

“  Nereids’  locks  with  sea-weed  girt.” 

“  Virides  comas  ;  ” — literally  “  green  tresses,”  I  give  the  poet’s 
meaning  rather  than  his  words. 


ODE  XXIX. 

Of  him  who  did  Ulysses  kill.” 

Literally,  “Of  Telegonus  the  parricide.”  I  found  the  name  of 
this  son  of  Ulysses,  who  slew  his  father,  too  obdurate  for  my  metre,  so 
I  paraphrased  the  sentence,  I  cannot  bear  to  clip  a  proper  name,  as 
Telegon’,  Thaliarch’,  Merion’,  &c. 


ODE  XXX. 

I  am  afraid  to  say  how  many  times  I  have  arranged  and 
re-arranged  the  rendering  of  this  exquisite  Ode.  I  fear  I  could  never 
do  it  to  my  satisfaction.  It  was  as  difficult  as  writing  a  proposal  to 
one’s  lady-love.  You  tear  up  your  efforts  dozens  of  times,  and  at  last, 
in  desperation,  dash  off  something  which  you  regard  with  abhorrence 
when  it  has  left  your  hand. 

“Who  first  attuned 
“  To  Grecian  measures  Latin  song.” 

See  Note  to  the  17th  Ode  of  Book  11. 


BOOK  IV. 


ODE  VI. 

This  Ode,  with  the  exception  of  the  last  stanza,  is  probably  a 
portion  of  the  Saccular  Hymn. 


NOTES. 


ODE  VII. 

1  have  yielded  to  the  temptation  to  translate  this  Ode  somewhat 
freely.  What  the  Latin  poet  could  indicate  by  a  word,  requires  a 
sentence  of  mine  to  render. 


ODE  VIII. 

I  make  no  attempt  to  explain  the  lacuna  in  the  fifth  stanza. 
For  this  the  reader  can  consult  the  commentators.  To  me,  however, 
it  seems  of  small  consequence  to  speculate  now  whether  the  Poet 
purposely  made  an  omission  ;  or  whether  the  hand  of  death  seized 
him  ere  he  had  completed  his  work ;  or  whether  two  lines  have  been 
lost ;  or  whether  there  is  no  omission  at  all.  We  have  the  Ode  as  it 
stands,  and  certainly  there  seems  no  break  in  the  continuity  of  the 
sentence. 


O  D  E  X  I  I  I . 

We  cannot  commend  the  taste  of  the  Poet  in  writing  this  Ode. 
It  reminds  one  too  much  of  his  youthful  style  in  some  of  the  Epodes. 
But  it  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  well-grounded  assertion  that  there 
was  no  sentiment  in  the  love  of  the  ancients  for  the  fair  sex.  Their 
passion  was  merely  sensual.  It  remained  for  the  Knight  and 
Troubadour  of  the  age  of  Chivalry  to  elevate  woman  to  the  position  of 
a  divinity. 


O  1)  h:  X  1  V. 

“  As  bull-shaped  Aufidus  rolls  on.’’ 

This  translation  is  literal  ;  but  I  think  the  Poet  means  to 
compare  the  headlong  torrent  of  Aufidus,  when  swollen  by  rain,  witli 
the  mad  rush  of  an  infuriated  bull. 


NOTES. 


THE  SAECULAB  HYMN, 

I  have  allowed  myself  greater  latitude  in  the  translation  of  this 
than  in  that  of  any  other  ode.  My  rendering  may  certainly  be  called  a 
free  one.  Still,  like  the  fly  in  amber,  I  think  it  is  all  there  ;  and  though 
amplified,  is  not,  I  trust,  quite  spoilt.  Having  been  one  of  my  earliest 
translations,  I  have  an  affection  for  it,  and  could  not  resist  printing  it  in 
this  book,  although  my  love  for  it  may  perhaps  be  compared  with  a 
mother’s  well-known  partiality  for  her  deformed  child.  That  the  reader 
may  compare  my  idea  of  a  literal  translation  with  the  rendering  given 
in  the  text,  I  append  here  the  four  opening  stanzas  in  literal  form. 

Phoebus  and  Dian,  o’er  the  grove 
Who  rule,  bright  glory  of  the  sky, 

Worshipp’d  by  all  and  whom  all  love, 

Oh  grant  our  prayer  this  sacred  day. 

On  which  the  verses  Sibylline 

Teach  chosen  maids  and  virgin  boys 
To  you  to  raise  the  hymnal  strain. 

Who  in  the  seven  hills  rejoice  ! 

Bright  sun  !  who  in  thy  car  of  flame 
Dost  both  reveal  and  hide  the  dayq 
Rising  another  yet  the  same, 

Than  Rome  no  mightier  may’st  thou  see  ! 

Ilithyia  !  kind  to  mothers’  pain. 

Our  matrons  guard,  or  by  the  name 
Lucina  to  be  called  thou’rt  fain. 

Or  Genitalis,  still  the  same. 

“  The  fast  revolving  years.” 

A  literal  translation  would  be,  “  the  period  of  no  years” 
Stanza  6).  And  so  again  I  have  substituted  “  who  guard  the  volumes 
Sibylline,”  for  “  the  Fifteen  men ’’{Quindecemviri,  Stanza  i8).  I  found 
myself  unable  to  extract  poetry  out  of  figures. 


<  V/ VX  ^ s/" 


224 


NOTES. 


THE  EPOHES. 


E  P  O  D  E  I  . 

“  Should  change  Calabria’s  burning  star 
“  For  mild  Lucania’s  verdant  fields.” 
See  note  to  the  17th  Ode  of  Bcok  I. 


E  P  O  D  E  II. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  give  an  absolutely  literal  translation  of  this 
Epode,  line  for  line,  and  almost  word  for  word. 

“  Or  he  surveys  the  herds  of  lowing  kine 
“  Straying  in  vale  remote.” 

These  lines  seem  to  me  to  be  out  of  their  place.  I  think  they 
should  properly  change  place  with  the  two  which  follow  them  in  the 
text,  I  have,  however,  followed  the  authority  whose  text  I  use ;  and  I 
find,  moreover,  that  Orelli-is  of  the  same  opinion  as  Dr.  Milman.  He 
says,  “Non  sine  arte  primum  memorat  vitium  culturam,  deinde  otium 
domini  suos  greges  per  sinuosam  convallem  sparsos  cum  laetitia  con- 
templantis,  turn  rursus  gratum  putationis  et  insitionis  opus,  quod 
quidem  in  mensem  Martium  incidebat,  cum  maritatio  fieret  mense 
Octobri  ;  sic  naturam  ipsam  secutus  perpetuam  ac  propter  hoc  ipsum 
jucundam  vitae  rusticae  varietatem  pingit.” 


EPODE  IV. 

This  Epode  is  only  given  as  an  instance  of  the  coarser  style  of 
Horace.  Some  are  quite  untranslateable  and  could  not  be  presented  to 
polite  readers.  This  one,  however,  though  certainly  coarse,  is  not 
indecent. 


P 


225 


NOTES. 


“  In  foremost  place  he  sits,  despite 
“  Of  Otho’s  law.” 

The  law  of  L.  Roscius  Otho  (A.U.C.  687),  apportioned  fourteen 
rows  of  seats  in  the  theatre  to  such  spectators  as  were  of  equestrian 
rank.  A  Military  Tribune  ranked  with  the  Equites.  Hence  Menas, 
though  slave-born,  had  become  entitled  by  his  office  to  sit  with  the 
knights.  Horace  is  indignant  at  his  effrontery  in  thrusting  himself  into 
the  very  front  row. 


E  P  O  D  h:  XV. 

“  To  thee  Pythagoras’  immortal  lore  be  known  ” 

Literally: — “Nor  do  the  secrets  of  Pythagoras,  born  again, 
escape  thee.” 


E  P  O  D  E  XVI. 

“Alas  !  a  barb’rous  victor  on  its  ashes  stands, 

“/Fhe  City  rings  with  courser’s  sounding  hoofs, 

“  And  bones  of  Romulus,  still  free  from  wind  and  sun 
“  (Unlawful  to  behold!)  he  scornful  spreads.’’ 

Compare  Byron:  — 

“  The  rifled  urn,  the  violated  mound, 

“  The  dust  thy  courser’s  hoof,  rude  stranger,  spurns  around.” 

Childe  Harold,  Canto  II.,  90. 


226 


CHESTER 


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